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Uicyi uJSMi 







TivELFE Night, 
OR, What you ivill 





Copjrigbt, 1901, by H. H. Fu&Niss 




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\ % m . • 

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Wnrcorr & Thomson, 


OP J. B. LimncoTT Compant, 



There is the attempt, in this Edition, to make each volume complete 
in itself and independent of the others; this renders unavoidable a cer- 
tain amount of repetition, which is irksome to us all, but, I trust, par- 

Of the present play, there is no Quarto Edition ; which means, that 
no copy of it was printed during Shakespeare's lifetime. Of this we 
are assured by the terms on which the Stationers' Company granted a 
license for the printing of the Folio, in 1623. The plays included 
in that license are only those which had not before been printed; 
Twelfth Night is among them ; it is clear, therefore, that it was then 
licensed for the first time. 

A transcript of the entry of the First Folio is as follows, in the 
Stationers^ Registers:^ 

8* Nobembrte inaa 

Master Blounte Entred for their Copie vnder the hands of Master 

Isaak Jaggard Doctor Worrall and Master Cole warden Master 

William Shakspeers Comedyes Histories, and Trag- 

edyes soe manie of the said Copies as are not 

formerly entred to other men. viz^ vij*. 

The Tempest 

The two gentlemen of Verona 

Measure for Measure 

The Comedy of Errors 
Comedyes ^ ^^^ ^.^^^ .^ 

All's well that ends well 
Twelfe night 
The winters tale 


The thirde parte of Henry ye Sixt 
Henry the Eight 

* Aiber's Transcript of the Stationers* Registers^ vol. iv. p. 107. 



Timon of Athens 
^ ,. Julius Caesar 

Tragedies Mackbeth 

Anthonie and Cleopatra 

In many another play the lack of a Quarto would prove more unfor- 
tunate than in the present. Where the text of the Folio has been 
obscured by a compositor, a Quarto may shed light ; but if the Quarto 
itself be misprinted, then we have but a dim twilight, whereunder dis- 
cussions may wax fast and certainly furious. I am not altogether sure 
that it is not a source of congratulation that our sole authority for 
Tivelfth Night lies in the Folio. It is to be feared that in many a 
case a Quarto might have obtrusively disturbed the tranquillity of the 
Folio, whereof the text is here so unusually correct that a majority of 
the editors do not even allude to it, beyond the statement of its source. 
The most puzzling passage of the play, or at least that which has 
caused the most discussion, is Malvolio's reference to the ^ lady of the 
' Strachy, who married the yeoman of the wardrobe,' where ' Strachy ' 
has been conjectured to be a misprint for 'Trachy,' 'Astrachan,' 
'Thracy,' 'Duchy,' 'Stitchery,' 'Starchery,' and half a dozen other 
titles near or far fetched. Possibly a Quarto might have disclosed the 
personality of this Lady with more precision ; but I rather prefer the 
shadowy outline of a haughty dame whom love forces from her grandeur 
to wed a humble retainer in a department so very convenient and femi- 
nine as the wardrobe. I am not of those who demand a solution of 
every puzzle ; a certain mystery, like Lord Bacon's ' lie,' doth ever add 
pleasure. Feste's proud argosy of the Vapians riding the waves without 
vailing its high top as it passes the equinoctial of Queubus is a vision 
as delightful as any true picture in the voyages of Sir Walter or of 
Drake. The question of Text^ then, may be happily dismissed with 
the assurance, from which there is no dissenting voice among editors, 
that, with the exception of errors wholly tjrpographical, and to be 
expected, the Text in Twelfth Night is of remarkable purity. 

It has been deemed, in mouths of wisest censure, of the utmost 
importance to know the order in which Shakespeare composed his 
plays. We must distinguish, so it is urged, his earliest plays from 
his latest ; we shall then be enabled, so we are told, to perceive the 
growth of his mind ; though how this is to help the growth of Our 
minds is not evident; possibly, it is assumed that our minds, being 

PRE FA CE vii 

fully grown, can watch with genial smile his early struggles; under 
such circumstances, who can resist the charm of suggesting that 
the young poet does very well now, but he will do better when he 
grows older and wiser? In order thus to marshall the plays in their 
due order, it is essential to know the Date of Composition of each play. 
To determine this date, there are two resources : first, facts drawn from 
evidence external to the play, such as references to it in contemporary 
literature ; and secondly, facts drawn from evidence within the play 
itself, such as allusions to certain facts whereof the date is readily 
ascertained. Of external evidence of the Date of Composition of the 
present play, we have but two assured items, namely, the Stationers^ 
Registers^ quoted above, and the Diary ^ or commonplace book of a 
London barrister, to be quoted hereafter. Steevens did, indeed, 
before the existence of this Diary was known, attempt to make 
out a third; he imagined that Ben Jonson, 'who,' as he said, 'takes 
'every opportunity to find fault with Shakespeare,* intended to ridi- 
cule this comedy, when he makes Mitis say, in Every Alan out of 
his Humour^ III, i : ' That the argument of his comedy might have 
' been of some other nature, as of a duke to be in love with a count- 
' ess, and that countess to be in love with the duke's son, and the son 
* to love the lady's waiting-maid ; some such cross-wooing, with a 
'clown to their serving-man, better to be thus near, and familiarly 
'allied to the time.' This play of Jonson was acted by the Company 
at The Globe, albeit Shakespeare was not one of the actors in 
it, in 1599; so that chronologically a reference to Twelfth Night is 
not impossible ; more than one editor places its date in that same 
year: 1599. But in Twelfth Night there is no countess in love with a 
duke's son, nor any duke's son in love with a waiting-maid ; and as for 
the 'cross- wooing,' Gifford says that it was 'probably to be found 
'among the old trash which has long since perished,' — ^an expeditious 
and comfortable way of silencing a troublesome question. I have no 
faith whatever in the supposition that Jonson here aimed such petty 
criticism at a play which not only had authority so irreproachably 
classic as Plautus and Menander for its cross- wooing, but was also 
written by one whom he 'loved this side of idolatry.* 

As regards internal evidence, the present play affords a warning 
which all who deal in this species of evidence should lay to heart. 
Some items of it, as conclusive as any that ever were offered, have 
been utterly disproved by external evidence subsequently discovered. 
For instance, in the Second Scene of the Third Act, Sir Toby insti- 
gates Sir Andrew to send a challenge to Cesario, and tells him to 
' taunt him with the license of ink ; if thou thou'st him some thrice. 


*it shall not be amiss.' All who have read Sir Walter Raleigh's trial 
will remember the low abuse heaped on him by the Attorney General, 
Coke. When the latter was denouncing Cobham's treason, Sir Walter 
remonstrated, saying, ' If my Lord Cobham be a traitor, what is that \ 
'to me?' Whereupon Coke replied: *A11 that he did was by thy 
'instigation, thou viper; for I thou thee, thou Traitor!' Theobald 
wrote to Warburton that there could be no doubt that Sir Toby 
alluded to this incident, and intended thereby to show his respect 
for Sir Walter and his detestation of his prosecutors. Moreover, in 
Coke's speech, is not 'thou' used just thrice, — the very number 
prescribed by Sir Tol>y? Could any sane man demand clearer 
evidence? Raleigh's trial took place in November, 1603; there- 
fore Theobald concluded that Twelfth Night was written in 1604; 
and, moreover, found corroborative evidence in Viola's words ' West- 
'ward ho!* when Olivia tells her her way lies due west. This 
phrase is the title of a play by Dekker and Webster, which we know 
was acted in 1605, and presumably written as well as acted much 
earlier. That Theobald could have been beguiled into the belief 
that in ' Westward ho !' there lies a reference to a play, rather than to 
the cry familiar to every citizen of London who came within earshot 
of the watermen plying their trade on the Thames, shows how weak 
strong men may sometimes be, and how easily a good scholar may be 
misled when in pursuit of the ignis fatuus, internal evidence. Nay, 
even cautious, conser\'ative Capell asserted that unless Viola here 
referred to Dekker' s play, her words 'would have no salt.* Capell' s 
own contribution to the internal evidence was hardly less far fetched. 
Because Sir Andrew ' delighted in masques and revels,' weakly adding 
'sometimes altogether,* this Editor inferred that herein lay a reference 
to 1607 ; in that year, * the rage for masques was predominant,' and 
to represent the weak knight as delighting in them was, as Capell 
choicely phrased it, *a wipe undoubtedly.' 

To the ingenuity of Thomas Tyrwhitt, the editor of Chaucer, 
the next item is due, and such was the respect in which Tyrwhitt's 
learning was held, that for many years the date of composition was 
accepted which he had detected lying concealed under the word 
'undertakers,* although this date involved the undesirable conclusion 
that Twelfth Night was the last play Shakespeare had written. When 
the sea-captain, Anthonio, intervenes in the duel between Viola and 
Sir Andrew, and takes up the quarrel for Viola, whom he mistakes for 
her twin-brother, Sebastian, Sir Toby exclaims ' Nay, if you be an 
'undertaker, 1 am for you!' In 'undertaker* Tyrwhitt perceived 
an allusion to parliamentary 'imdertakers,' who were thus stigmatised 


because they had undertaken in James's time so to manage the elec- 
tions that a majority favourable to the Court was returned to Parlia- 
ment. But this violent opposition to 'undertakers* arose in 1614, a 
date somewhat late for Shakespeare, who died only two years later. 
But the reference is so unmistakable that there was no help for it ; the 
date of the comp>osition of Twelfth Night must be placed in 16 14. 
For many years Malone accepted this date ; but, under the influence of 
sundry allusions which seemed to point to an earlier one, the significance 
of ' undertakers ' grew less and less pointed until at last it was decently 
laid to rest, as became its modern calling. Malone' s final judgement 
is in favour of 1607 ; in that year, Marston's play of What you wiilyrzs 
entered on the Stationers^ Registers in August, and this clearly points 
to the alternative title of the present play. Furthermore, the * Sophy ' 
is twice mentioned in Twelfth Night. Who can doubt that Shake- 
speare had here in mind the remarkable career in Persia of the Shirley 
family, one of whom, Sir Robert, had come to England as the Sophy's 
ambassador? * The history of Shirley,' says Malone, * was well known 
*in England in 1607, and a play written on the subject, called The 
* Travels of Three English Brothers ^ appeared in that year.' Blind 
indeed must he be, who cannot see that these items of internal evi- 
dence point to 1607 as the year of Twelfth Night^s birth. But in the 
meantime, between Malone's first and last opinion, there appeared 
Chalmers, that daring free-lance, who would persist in knowing as 
much about Elizabethan times as Steevens or Malone, and would not 
shut his eyes and open his mouth to take what his betters administered. 
In the * affair ' between Cesario and Sir Andrew, Chalmers asserts * 
that Shakespeare meant to throw the duello into a ridiculous light ; 
and, inasmuch as King James, in 1613, issued 'An Edict and Censure 
'against Private Combats,' which was designed to put a stop to duels, 
nothing can be plainer than that the present comedy was written in 
that year. 

There is still another item of internal evidence which is really re- 
spectable, and stands on a basis firmer than any of the others. In the 
Second Scene of the Third Act, Maria says of Malvolio, 'he does 
'smile his face into more lines than is in the new Map, with the aug- 
' mentation of the Indies. ' Here we have a specific map, designated 
as ' new. ' Wherefore, the date of any map bearing an * augmentation 
' of the Indies ' must be close enough to the date of Twelfth Night 
to permit Maria to term it 'new.' In i860, James Lenox, the 
founder of The Lenox Library* suggested that a certain map, extolled 

* Supplemental Apology ^ etc. 1799, p. 442. 


by Hallam, was the veritable map alluded to by Maria.* Eighteen 
years later, in the Transactions of The New Shakspere Society^ Mr C. 
H. CooTE learnedly maintained that in this same map all requirements 
were fulfilled ; it was a map on a ' new ' plan, with a record of all 
the newest news in geographical discovery, whereon the Indies were 
augmented and more rhumb-lines added than on any previous map ; 
it had been published to be bound up with Hakluyt*s Voyages^ in 1599. 
Inasmuch as this date harmonises with the external evidence afforded 
by Manningham's Diary (to be hereafter mentioned), it may well be 
accepted as narrowing the term of years within which Twelfth Night 
was written. Where external evidence corroborates internal evidence, 
the latter is worthy of all respect. 

Finally, two of the songs in the play furnish items which partake 
both of external and internal evidence. Sir Toby, in the Third Scene 
of the Second Act, sings snatches of a song beginning : * Farewell, 
'dear heart,' etc. 'This ballad,' says Halliwell-Phillipps,! *had 

* first appeared in the Booke of Ayres composed by Robert Jones, 
' 1 601. Jones does not profess to be the author of the words of this 
'song, . . . but there is every reason to believe that the ditty was 

* first published in this work, a collection of new, not of old, songs.' 
This date, 1601, is not opposed to our positive external evidence, and 
may well be accepted. Jones may have included it in his Booke y owing 
to its popularity as sung in Twelfth Night ; or it may have been a pop- 
ular song, familiar to the actor of Sir Toby, and may or may not have 
been written by Shakespkare. 

The second song is that of Feste, beginning, ' O Mistress mine, 
' where are you roaming ?' Chappelt, sa)^ that this song is contained 
in Morley's Consort Lessons y 1599; 'which proves either that Twelfth 

* Night was written in or before that year, or that, in accordance with 

* the then prevailing custom, O Mistress mine was an old song, intro- 
' duced into the play.' J ' This latter supposition,' Dyce observes, ' is 
'doubtless the true one.* I do not forget how common is the practice 
in Shakespeare, and in the Elizabethan drama, to introduce old or 
familiar songs; I bear in mind that the Gravedigger's song in Hamlet 
was written by Thomas I^rd Vaux; I recall that in the present play 
there stands the stage-direction * Catch sung^ where the catch is left to 
the musical resources of the actors, — and yet in full nienior)' of all this, 
oxen and wainropes cannot hale me from the belief that this song is 
Shakespeare's very own. Its phraseolog}', its histrionic quality (it is 
a drama in miniature), its sententiousness (' Journe}'s end in lovers meet- 

♦ Nicolam Syllacius^ De Insulis Nuper Inveniis^ New York, i860, p. xiii. 
f Outlinesy etc. 2nd ed. p. 264. % Popular Music of the Olden Time^ i, 209. 


' ing/ 'Youth's a stuff will not endure/ — the very word 'stuff* is Shake- 
spearian), its interrogation * What is love ?* (like * Tell me where is 
' fancy bred?*), its defining love by what it is not rather than by what 
it is, — all these proclaim its author to be either Shakespeare — aut 

Among the items of internal evidence thus far dealt with, there are 
seven which are not corroborated by external evidence, and these are 
they which afford a sad warning to all who indulge in speculations 
and theories based on allusions within a play. If these allusions 
would only all point to the same date, there might be some comfort 
yet, but they do not, and will not ; we, the while, poor feeble victims, 
eager for the beneficent knowledge of the very year, month, day, and 
hour when Shakespeare composed his plays, must abide in depressing 
bewilderment. At the very time, however, that Theobald, Capell, 
Malone, and the rest, were proclaiming each a different date, and 
each the true one, there was lying unheeded among the Harleian 
MSS (No. 5353) of the British Museum a little unpretending Diary ^ 
containing an entry which scatters, like the chaff that it is, all uncor- 
roborated internal evidence. 

To whom belongs the right of discovery in regard to this Diary ^ I 
find it imjKKsible to determine. Hunter says that he discovered it in 
1828, and mentioned the feet to two literary friends, one of whom was 
B. H. Bright, the other is nameless, and that * up to the period,' he 
adds,* * when it fell into my hands, 1 have reason to think that no eye 
' had fallen on this unobtnisive volume that could perceive its curiosity 

* and worth. ' Collier, on the other hand, speaks of having been * fortu- 
' nate to meet with it * and remarks that ' excepting by the maker of the 
' Catalogue, it seems to have remained entirely unexamined. 'f Further- 
more, in a small book, written in the form of a letter addressed to* 
Hunter, Collier speaks of 'having discovered the entry' relating 
to Twelfth Night fX which he would not have said had his correspond- 
ent had a prior claim. It is pleasant always to bear in mind that 

* sttum cuique is our Roman justice,* but in this case the claims are so 
shadowy that it is impossible now to substantiate them. The fact 
remains, that Collier was the first to publish the existence of the 
Diary with its decisive entry concerning Twelfth Night. It was 
Hunter, with brilliant skill and unwearied pains, who discovered the 
name, and even the history, of the diarist, who was, it appears, ' no 
'other than John Manninghani, then studying in the Middle Tem- 

♦ New TUustrations, etc. 1 845, i, 369. 

t HUtory of English Dramatic Poetry ^ etc. 183 1, i, 321. 

J Farther Particulars regarding Shakespeare^ etc. 1 839, p. lO. 


*ple, but in a few years to be removed from London to take pos* 
' session of a house and lands at East Mailing [in Kent], which were 
' given him by a collateral relative ; ... we do not find his name in 
*any other way connected with either the lighter or graver liter- 
' ature of the country but through this single manuscript, so that it is 
' probable for the remainder of his life he lived the life of a country 
' gentleman, cultivating acres of his own, and in due time was gathered 

* to his fathers, leaving his inheritance to his children.* * The Diary 
has been reprinted by The Camden Society , and is now accessible to 
all. It extends from Christmas, 1601, to the fourteenth of April, 
1603 ; and is not a continuous journal, but has many intervals, and is 
interspersed with ^ts and fancies, concise reports of Law cases and 
voluminous reports of sermons, scandals of the court and gossip of 
the buttery bar, whatever, in short, the writer desired to remember, 
and some things which he would, we may charitably suppose, vehe- 
mently desire to forget. In his company we may draw nearer, I 
believe, than in any historian's, to Queen Elizabeth's death-bed. He 
was in the palace at Richmond the night she died, and learned the 
particulars of her state from his friend, Dr Parry, who was with her to 
the last. 

The entry, however, which fixes a date before which Twelfth Night 
must have been composed is as follows : — f 

* Febr. 1 601. 

* Feb. 2. At our feast wee had a play called ** Twelue Night, or What 

' " you Will,** much like the Commedy of Errores, or Menechmi in 

* Plautus, but most like and neere to that in Italian called Inganni, 
' A good practise in it to make the Ste^'ard beleeve his Lady wid- 

* dowe was in love with him, by counterfeyting a letter as from his 

* Lady in generall termes, telling him what shee liked best in him, 
*and prescribing his gesture in smiling, his apparaile, etc., and 
' then when he came to practise making him beleeue they tooke 
'him to be mad.' 

All uncorroborated internal evidence may now flutter away into 
space. How much earlier than January, 1601, Twelfth Night was 
composed is still undetermined. The benchers of the Middle Temple 
certainly would not select an untried play for their Candlemas festivity. 
Meres in his Wits Commonwealth, published in 1598, does not mention 
Twelfth Night, This barrier checks those who believe that Meres men- 
tions all of Shakespeare's plays which had been publicly acted at the 

♦ New lUustrations, etc i, 375. t Camden Society RepHnt, p. 18. 


time he wrote. But really two years is a field quite spacious enough 
wherein critics may frolic in conjecture. Unhappily, into these very 
years they have to squeeze : Henry the Fifths Much Ado about Nothings 
As You Like It, and, possibly, The Merry Wives of Windsor ; but 
their embarrassment is of their own seeking. We who have free souls, 
and, as far as the plays themselves are concerned, care as little for the 
hour when Shakespeare wrote them as for the quality of his ink, can 
smile benignantly. 

Mr Fleay, whose prodigious work in the dramatic and Shake- 
spearian fields entitles him always to a respectful hearing, asserts that 
the present play was written at two separate times, and that the earlier 
portion was composed in 1593. The proof of this he finds in what he 
asserts to be the &ct, that the plot and the under-plot are not so inex- 
tricably interwoven that they cannot be disentangled and separately 
presented.* The characters which he considers as belonging to the 
early play are the Duke, Sebastian, Antonio, Viola, Olivia, Curio, Val- 
entine, and the Captain. He specifies the scenes and * parts ' of scenes 
in which they enter, and adds that these * can be so cut out as to make 
* a play of itself, entirely independent of the other characters, which is 
*an infallible sign of priority of composition.' On turning to the play, 
we find that the * parts ' of scenes, to be thus ' cut out,' are the identical 
places where Shakespeare interlaces the two plots ; and with such skill 
are they interwoven that a separation could not but be felt as a grievous 
mutilation. Assuredly, in order to carry on the play, other characters 
must be introduced to take the place of those eliminated. A lady 
of exalted rank, like Olivia, cannot enter without an attendant. If 
Mr Fleay discharge poor Maria, he must engage another attendant to 
take her situation ; and I greatly fear he will find it somewhat diffi- 
cult to secure at any 'Intelligence Office' a 'chamber maid,' as Sir 
Toby calls her, quite as attractive or quick-witted. Again, it is 
surely a dramatist's duty to impart dignity to his characters of high 
rank, by suggesting the grandeur of their establishment and the 
number of their retinue. To this end, are not a sedate Steward, 
with his silver chain, and a Fool of choice wit, legitimate attend- 
ants of the Countess Olivia? A palace, darkened by the unalterable 
gloom of her who rules it, would prove a background too sombre for 
the picture of a joyous comedy ; on the score of dramatic necessity, 
therefore, in Olivia's unprotected state, the presence of a man of near 
kinship is needed in the household ; and if Uncle Toby raises the 
night owl with a catch that will draw three souls out of one weaver, 

♦ See Appendix^ pp. 324, 325. 


between his exuberant merriment and Olivia's lugubrious seclusion a 
feir average may be struck. And as for Feste, — he is the solvent for 
all the mirth and pathos of the whole play ; next to Viola and Mal- 
voliOy he is the character of the comedy. 

After all, there is cheer for us. The unwelcome gap which separates 
us from Mr Fleav is lessening. We can detect signs of his relenting. 
He wavers in the number of the years of separation. In 1876 he con- 
cludes that the * Viola story ' was written in 1594.* In the next year, 
1877, he believes that it was written in 1595 ; f and in 1886, he thinks 
that the date is 1593.4! In this vacillation, surely there is justification 
for the hope that eventually the years dividing the two stories, the plot 
and the under-plot, will disappear altogether, and that to his eyes, as to 
ours. Twelfth Night will stand revealed a perfectly constructed dramatic 

To me, personally, an investigation of the sources whence Shake- 
speare drew the plots of his plays is a subject of inquiry fer more inter- 
esting than seeking after the date when he \vTote them. Into the latter 
quest, there must, of necessity, enter much that can be never known. 
Dates belong to history and to biography; I cannot perceive what 
possible charm they can impart to the play. Twelfth Night. Does it 
add one doit to its value or one ray to its brilliance to know that the 
Koh-i-noor was presented to Queen Victoria in June, 1850? 

In the Appendix will be found at length, adequately full, all the 
sources which have been surmised to be those whence the chief plot 
of the present play has been derived. All it behooves me here to give 
is a brief summary. 

Down to the discovery of Manningham's Diary ^ there had been 
suggested but four of these sources. The earliest suggestion is by 
Gerard Langbaine, who found in the resemblance of Sebastian to his 
twin sister, and in the mistakes arising therefrom, a loan from the 
AmphitruOj or the Menachmi of Plautus.§ 

Next follows our countrywoman, Mrs Charlotte Lennox, whose 
sad old age of penury softens all asperity of judgement on her earlier 
writings; while granting that Shakespeare might have taken a hint 
from Plautus, Mrs Lennox decided || that he * had a much more ample 
* supply for the Fable of this Comedy ' in a Novel of Bandello ; she 

* Shakespeare Manual^ p. 231. 

t Introduction to Shakespeared Study, p. 25. 

J Life and Work of Shakespeare, p. 220. 

3 Account of the English Dramatic Poets, 1691, p. 446. 

n Shakspear Illustrated, 1753, i, 242. 


hints, rather timidly, that possibly Shakespeare could not read Italian, 
yet does not relinquish the belief that it is the Italian novelist to whom 
the English poet is indebted for his plot. And assuredly decided par^ 
allelisms may be traced between the novel and the play. In Bandello*s 
story Nicuola and Paolo Nanni were twins, identical in features ; when 
about fifteen years old they were separated by the fortune of war, and 
their father took Nicuola to his estate near Ancona. In the town where 
they resided there was a youth of great wealth, named Lattanzio Puc- 
cini, between whom and Nicuola a vehement love sprung up. Before 
this love had ripened into a betrothal, Nicuola's father was obliged to 
go to Rome on business, and confided his daughter to the care of a 
cousin, Sister Camilla, the abbess of a convent. Lattanzio, ignorant 
of Nicuola's change of abode, was at first in a despair so profound that 
he did not answer Nicuola's letters ; but he soon transferred his affec- 
tion to a beautiful damsel named Catella. It now appears that he 
was wont to go to this very convent to have his shirts made, and 
one day, when he was there, the disconsolate Nicuola, who had 
become convinced of his faithlessness, listened at the keyhole (though 
this is more elegantly expressed in the Italian as ' a place where, with- 
' out being seen of Lattanzio, she saw him and heard what he said ') 
and learned that he had just lost by fever an efficient page. At once, 
Nicuola went to an old nurse of hers, and, donning the clothes of a 
son of the old woman, proceeded to Lattanzio's house, and was there 
engaged as a page, under the name of Romolo. Lattanzio had her 
bravely clothed all in white, and was so greatly pleased with her that 
he confided to her his absorbing love for Catella, and sent her with 
most loving messages to his mistress. Though with a breaking heart, 
Romolo loyally and faithfully fulfilled her duty. But Catella, at the 
first sight of the page, became violently enamoured of him, even to the 
extent of kissing him. Romolo was surprised and very naturally em- 
barrassed. (Bandello, with the warmth of an Italian imagination, and 
heedless of optics, says that Romolo * turned a thousand colours.') At 
last, Catella said to him : * I know not what thou hast done to me ; 
'methinks thou must have bewitched me !' (Compare Olivia's words 
to Cesario: *Afler the last enchantment thou didst here.*) Catella 
asseverates that she never will, nor can, love lattanzio ; and when 
Romolo endeavours to console her master for this discouraging rebuff, 
Lattanzio tells her that all damsels are not equally cruel ; for, not many 
months before, one of the fairest of maidens had been in love with 
him, but he had given her up when she left the city and had not 
answered her letters. Hereupon, Romolo reproaches him. 'Who 
*knoweth,' she asks, *but this fair damsel yet loveth you and liveth in 


'sore affliction for your sake? More by token that I have many a time 

* heard say that girls, in their first loves, love far more tenderly and 
'with much greater fervour than do men.' (Compare what Cesario 
says to the Duke : * We men may say more, sweare more, but indeed 

* Our shewes are more than will : for still we prove Much in our vowes, 

* but little in our loue.') Nevertheless, Lattanzio wishes Romolo to go 
again to Catella, but on the way thither Romolo catches sight of her 
&ther, who is just arriving from Rome, and she flies to seek counsel 
of her old nurse, who persuades her to resume her maiden's clothes, 
and stay within doors till a good excuse can be given to her father for 
her absence. Lattanzio, fretting over the failure of his page to return, 
sets out to seek him, and is guided to the house of the old nurse, to 
whom he unburdens his heart ; she responds by scolding his obstinacy 
in pursuing an obdurate mistress, while Nicuola is all the time constant 
to him. Lattanzio protests that, if that be the case, he will cast off 
Catella and be the most blest of mortals in the renewal of his first and 
truest love. Nicuola hereupon appears and they betroth themselves in 
the presence of the nurse. Only a few hours before this happy event, 
Paolo, the twin brother, had reached his native town, habited, for a 
vow he had taken, all in white, and had been mistaken for Romolo by 
Catella's maid and summoned to Catella* s presence. When the lovely 
damsel greeted him as Romolo, Paolo saw that there was some mistake, 
but was too much struck with Catella' s beauty to remonstrate. He 
yields, and plights to her his troth; when he again appears on the 
street, he is recognized by his father ; and the story ends with marriages 
all round. 

Unquestionably, there are here the outlines of a story closely resem- 
bling the plot of Twelfth Night: — there are twins; similarity of cos- 
tume ; an enamoured girl disguised as a page ; sent as a messenger to 
an obdurate beauty ; who falls at once in love with the messenger ; a 
brother, mistaken for his disguised sister ; invited to the house of an 
unknown lady ; and there immediately betrothed. The untying of the 
knot is entirely different. I have purposely omitted an under-plot which 
represents Catella's old father as in love with Nicuola. This merely 
widens the gap between Shakespeare and Bandello. But in the main 
plot, there is a parallelism which cannot be ignored ; in default of a 
better source, we must adopt the Italian novel. 

To avoid the shuddering acknowledgement that Shakespeare was 
cultured enough to be familiar with the fashionable language of his 
day, many editors, following the lead of Capell, suggest that the plot 
of Twelfth Night "kzs derived from Belle-Forest, whose French trans- 
lation of Bandello's novel was supposed to be more within Shake- 


SPEAKERS limited capacity. It is doubtful, I think, that that those who 
thus adopt Capell's suggestion have ever compared Belle-Forest's 
translation with Bandello, or even read it. The polished Frenchman 
evidently prided himself on his talent for writing beautiful poetry and 
languishing love-letters. (We find this same display in his version of 
Much Ado about Nothing,) Accordingly, in the French version, no 
sooner have Nicole and Lactance fallen in love, than the lover writes 
to his mistress an ardent letter, signed 'Vostre esclaue, L. Puccini.* 
To which the girl replies under the signature 'Vostre bonne amie, 
'Nicole de Nanni.' When Nicole is deserted by her lover, her poor 
heart finds relief in verse, beginning: S'ii y a au monde peine Qui le 
cotur des hotnmes geine, SUi y a quelque douleur Qui suyue nostre nais- 
sance Pour luy donner cognoissance De sa misere et malheur^ and so on, 
for more than four pages. 

Whatever may have been the original of Twelfth Night, I am sure 
it was not Belle-Forest's version of Bandello. And I am more sure 
that it was not a story of Barnabe Riche, called Apolonius and Silla, 
printed in 1581, which Collier was the earliest to announce as the 
* indisputable source of Twelfth Night.' * In this opinion of Collier, 
there has been, however, a general acquiescence. Possibly, the fact 
that Riche's story is in English, and of Shakespeare's own day, may 
have in some degree affected this acquiescence. I venture to dis- 
sent ; not on the score that there are no incidents common to both 
story and comedy, because there are such, but I cannot believe that 
Shakespeare was ever in the smallest degree influenced by Riche's 
coarse, repulsive novel. I doubt that Shakespeare ever read it, — at 
least, I hope he never did; his hours were more precious to us all 
than those of any poet who ever lived; it would be grievous to 
think that he wasted even half a one over Apolonius and Silla ; but 
we, whose time is of no value to anybody, can pause over Riche's 
story long enough to note some of the discrepancies between it 
and Twelfth Night : — Silla (Viola) and Silvio (Sebastian) are brother 
and sister, but not twins, although, however, Riche takes care to 
emphasize their great resemblance in feature to each other. Silla 
meets Apolonius (Orsino) as a guest under her father's roof, and 
makes violent love to him, which he rejects, and departs. At this 
point in Riche's story we find an observation, from which we may 
draw a fair infbrence that he had at least read Belle-Forest. Be it 
remembered that in the French novel, afler Lactance' s desertion, 
Nicole indulges in versified grief throughout four pages and more. 

* Poetical Decameron, 1 820, ii. 161. 

xviii PRE FA CE 

At this same point Riche says : * I will here for brevities sake, omit 

* to make repetition of the long and dolourous discourse recorded by 

* Silla for this sodaine departure of her Apolonius. ' It is only in 
Belle-Forest that a ' dolourous discourse ' is found. Silla determines 
to pursue Duke Apolonius ; accordingly, accompanied by a servant, she 
sets sail for Constantinople; the captain of the ship is of a base 
nature, and Silla escapes dishonour by shipwreck, and is saved from 
the wreck by clinging to a chest, wherein, when she opens it on land, 
she finds money and male garments ; she pockets the one and dons the 
other. (All clothes fitted everybody point device, in those happy 
days!) Thus arrayed, Silla, who adopts the name of her brother 
Silvio, reaches the palace of Duke Apolonius in Constantinople, enters 
his service as page, and is entrusted by him with love-messages and 
love-tokens to Dame Julina, a very rich widow. After many inter- 
views, Julina falls in love with the page. At this point Silvio, the 
brother, reaches Constantinople, and is met in the street by Julina, 
who mistakes him for Silvio, the page ; she invites him to her house, 
and, after an interview with her, the youth leaves the city the next 
morning. This interview wrecks the reputation of Julina, and event- 
ually forces Silla in self-defence to throw off her disguise. The Duke 
recognises her, marries her, and the fame of the wedding festivities 
attracts the wandering Silvio, who revisits Constantinople and marries 

The attentive reader can hardly fail to note how few in number 
are the points where the story and the play coincide : — a shipwreck ; a 
disguised, enamoured page who carries love-messages to his master's 
mistress, and with whom the latter falls in love ; and a brother who 
is mistaken for his disguised sister. Let nothing induce us to contam- 
inate the spotless Viola and the haughty Olivia by the remotest hint of 
a kinship with the weak Silla and the brazen Julina. 

To the record in Manningham*s Diary of a performance of Twelfth 
Nighty we are indebted in more respects than one. In the search for 
Shakespeare's plots, there had long been a recourse to Italian novels, 
but until Manningham had said that the present comedy was 'most 
Mike and neere' to the Inganni (or The Deceits), no one had ever 
turned to the Italian drama. Hunter was the earliest to follow the 
clue, and we are now the heirs to his intelligent and indefatigable 
labours. Had Hunter rested content in a comparison of the Inganni 
with Twelfth Night, Manningham's assertion would have led to little 
or no result. The Italian play was written by Nicolo Secchi, or Secco, 
and acted, so says the title-page, at Milan, in 1547. In it, we have a 
brother and sister, twins, separated from their father by corsairs ; the 


girl, Ginevra, is dressed like a boy, and is called Ruberto; at the 
opening of the play, both are known to each other and are living in 
Naples, in the same street, the boy, Fortunato, as a servant to a light 
o' love, named Dorotea ; and Ruberto (Viola) as a servant to a master 
who has a son, Gostanzo (Orsino), and a daughter, Portia (Olivia). 
Ruberto is in love with Gostanzo, who in turn is in love with 
Dorotea; Portia is in love with Ruberto, whom, of course, she 
believes to be a man. Gostanzo sends Ruberto to Dorotea with 
love-messages, but Dorotea does not fall in love with the messenger. 
Herein lies the essential, the fetal difference between the Inganni and 
Twelfth Night, Ruberto finally weans Gostanzo from his love for the 
purely mercenary Dorotea, and, when she has doffed her disguise, wins 
it to herself. The old father turns up at the right moment, a rich 
man with sixty thousand scudi, and Ruberto (Ginevra) is married to 
Gostanzo, and Fortimato to Portia.* 

Collier gives a scene which, as he says, ' distantly, and only dis- 
' tantly, reminds us of Shakespeare *; and Hunter thinks that Shake- 
speare may have read the play. It is impossible to contradict either 
of these opinions, but I should never have thought of expressing them. 

There is another play, also called Gr Inganni, written by Curtio 
Gonzaga, printed at Venice, i592.f This I have not seen, but Hun- 
ter leads us to suppose that it varies but very slightly from that by 
Secchi ; the only difference which he notes is, that the girl in disguise 
assumes the name Cesare, which suggests * Cesario * in Twelfth Night, 

Thus far our gratitude to Manningham, as far as his reference to the 
Italian drama is concerned, is small. It has really led us nowhither. 
No serious claim can be set up for GP Inganni as the source of Twelfth 
Night. But Hunter was not discouraged ; a further search discovered 
another and an earlier play, called Gringannati, composed and acted 
in Siena, in 1 531, by a Society, or Academy, named GC Intronati, 
that is, The Thunderstruck, one of those innumerable societies which 
appear to have been, at that period, the rage in Italy, — a catalogue 
of the names of more than five hundred has been preserved ; some of 
the titles are quite as fantastic as The Thunderstruck, and, presuma- 
bly, far more descriptive ; for instance, there were GP Insipidi, whereof, 
I fancy, the roll of members was long. 

A reason why this comedy of the Ingannati had escaped notice is 
the misleading title of the little volume wherein it is to be found. Its 
title runs // Sacrificio, Comedia de gP Intronati ; and the sacrifice con- 
sists of a series of sonnets and madrigals, sung or chanted by each 
' Thunderstruck ' as he casts into a sacred flame on an altar some love- 

♦ See Appendix, p. 339. f Hunter, New Illustrations, etc. i, 391. 


token of a mistress who had proved unkind, such as a ring, a glove, a 
white flower, a copy of verses (why have we not, alas ! a modem sac- 
rificiof), a handkerchief bathed in tears; and * Messer Agnol Maleuolti ' 
(whose name. Hunter thinks, Shakespeare converted into * Malvolio,' 
but I much doubt,) deposits 'a sculptured Cupid, the gift of his Fair.' 
When this depressing rite was over, the comedy of GP Ingannati began. 
Here, at last, though Hunter does not note it, we have, beyond 
question, in this comedy, the original of — Bandello. // Sacrificio was 
performed, as it says in the bastard-title, in Carnival week in Siena in 
1531J it was reprinted in 1537, again in 1538, and again in 1550, 
so that there were at least four editions of it in circulation before 
Bandello's novel was printed in 1554. Apart from mere priority of 
date, the play itself reveals Bandello's indebtedness to it. In the 
Ingannati^ the time of the story is laid in 1527, it is so also in 
Bandello ; the catastrophe which overwhelms the father is the sacking 
of Rome, — so also is it in Bandello ; the father has a friend, an old 
man named Gherardo, thus it is also in Bandello; the brother and 
sister dress in white, and the father has a cousin, a nun, named 
Camilla, — all this is in Bandello, including the name, Camilla. For the 
pretty name, however, of the heroine, Lelia, he substituted Nicuola. 
The|)lot of Ingannati may be given in a few lines ; it will be readily 
seen that it is the same as Bandello's novel. Fabrizio and Lelia are the 
children of an old man who was ruined in the sack of Rome in May, 
1527. Fabrizio' s &te is unknown to the father, but Lelia is taken by 
him to Modena, where lives Flaminio, who had in old Roman days 
exchanged love-vows with Lelia, but had now forgotten her and is in 
love with Isabella, the daughter of an old man named Gerardo. Lelia 
is placed in charge of her aunt, Camilla, a nun in a convent, where she 
obtains a disguise and serves as a page to the fickle Flaminio, who sends 
by her his passionate love-messages to Isabella. Isabella rejects Fla- 
minio, but falls in love with the page. Fabrizio appears unexpectedly, 
^ and is mistaken by Isabella for the page. In the end recognitions are 
made all round, and Fabrizio weds Isabella, and Flaminio I^lia. It is 
said in the Prologue (p. 15, verso) that ' the story is new, never before 

* either seen or read, nor drawn from any other source save from their 

* industrious pates [/. e.y of the Intronati], just as you draw your lots 
*on Twelflh Night.' Hunter opines that *in perusing this Prologue 

* the eye of Shakespeare would fall upon ' this passage, and that he 
thence derived the title of the present comedy. This is not impos- 
sible ; but I believe that Shakespeare had no need to go to the Italian 

* A translation of GV Ingannati will be found in the Appendix^ p. 341. 


The Ingannati was evidently an extremely popular play; there 
were nine, probably ten or even more, editions of it before 1600. But 
it is a &r cry from Siena to I^ndon, and a cry, moreover, in Italian. 
We must remember, however, that there was an Italian troupe of play- 
ers, under the management of one Drousiano, in London in 1577-78, 
who acted before the Queen at Windsor. Although this date is some- 
what too early to suggest any personal knowledge of them on the part 
of Shakespeare, yet it shows a connection between the two national 
theatres which is not without significance. Assuredly, these Italians 
would not act unpopular plays. (I prefer to assert what they undeniably 
would not do, rather than to say what, * probably,' they would do. If 
the use of the adverb ' probably,' in connection with all statements 
regarding Shakespeare, were legally forbidden on pain of death with- 
out the benefit of clergy, I think the world would be the happier, 
certainly the wiser.) Possibly thanks to these Italian comedians, this 
popular play, the Ingannati^ was brought into England. And on Eng- 
lish soil we find it, within three years of the public performance of 
Twelfth Night which John Manningham saw, and recorded in his 
Diary; and even closer yet to Shakespeare, if we suppose that 
Tivelfth Niglit was already a popular play when it was acted at the 
Readers' Feast in the Middle Temple Hall. 

In that invaluable storehouse of Shakespearian investigations, the 
Year-Books of The German Shakespeare Society (has there been a monu- 
ment erected to Shakespeare more august or enduring than its thirty- 
six volumes?), there is a recent noteworthy contribution by George B. 
Churchill (a fellow-countryman of ours) and Wolfgang Keller, 
giving an account of twenty-eight Latin MS Dramas, performed at 
English universities in the time of Queen Elizabeth.* Among these 
MSS is one preserved in Lambeth Palace, called Laelia^ which was 
acted in Queen's College, Cambridge, in 1590, and again in 1598. 
Under this title, Laelia, the name of the heroine, we recognise a 
translation of the Ingannati, — faithful in retaining the names of the 
Dramatis Personce, feithful in every main feature, to the original 
comedy. That it was in Latin is but of trifling moment. Ben Jonson 
acknowledged that Shakespeare knew some Latin, albeit he pro- 
nounced the extent to be * small.' Were it many times smaller, it would 
still have been large enough to read and easily comprehend Laelia, 

Happy among Shakespeare's plays is Twelfth Night/ A source 
of its main plot is thus traced to England, and close to Shakespeare's 
door, immediately before an assured date of its composition. 

♦ Vol. xxxiv, 1898, pp. 286, 291. See Appendix, p. 359. 

xxii PREFA CE 

Next to the interest which is awakened by observing the alchemy 
wherewith Shakespeare converts dross into gold, when dealing with 
the sources of his plots, is, I think, a study of his consummate skill in 
unfolding before us the Duration of the Action, His most remarkable 
achievement in this regard is to be found in Othello^ where the whole 
action, with all its gradual growth of jealousy and developement of 
character, is comprised within thirty-six hours. Next in wonder is The 
Merchant of Venice^ where a three-months' bond expires by limitation 
in three days. Possibly, the present play stands next in rank. While 
listening to a performance of Twelfth Nighty do we not know that we 
are watching the love of Viola for Orsino grow stronger day by day ? 
Have we not noted the continued firmness with which she represses 
Olivia's passion for her? Do we not carouse for many an evening with 
Sir Toby, and is not Malvolio for ever obtruding his aversion to all 
mirth ? Does not Sir Andrew postpone his departure week after week ? 
There has been no haste; time has advanced steadily, ripening all 
events. Malvolio, poor gentleman ! languishes so long in * hideous 
* darkness ' that Feste is scolded for having talked to him. The song 
that Feste sings one evening he must repeat to the Duke the next day. 
The Duke broods over his disprized love when canopied with bowers 
through summer afternoons, and in his confiding talks with Viola, she 
tells him * a thousand times she never could love woman as she loves 
*him.* Under this gramarye of Shakespeare we sit, and accept the 
truth when Orsino says that for three months Viola had tended upon 
him. But if we shake off the spell, and, with the book before us, note 
the sequence of events, and mark off the morning and the evening of 
the first day and of the next, we find that the time involved in the 
scenes which have passed before our eyes is exactly three days ! Such 
helpless victims are we of Shakespeare's art, that in the last Act we 
accept, without a shade of mistrust, as perfectly natural, that within 
two hours (we have the Priest's watch for a witness) Sir Toby has had 
a second desperate fight with Sebastian, is become extremely drunk, 
and has yet found time withal to woo, win, and marry Maria. 

It is too late a day to say that this treatment of the Duration of the 
Action is mere accident, or that Shakespeare referred haphazard to 
the flight of time. The effect is so unquestionable, and so necessary 
withal to dramatic art, that a sufficing cause must have been inten- 
tional. And when we find -^schvlus employing the same art, should 
not imputations of accident be silenced ? 

H. H. F. 

October, igoi. 

Dramatis Perfonae. 

Orsino, Duke of Illyria. 2 

Sebastian, a young Gentleman^ Brother to Viola. 

Antonio, a Sea-Captaiuy Friend to Sebastian. 

Valentine, ) 5 

P > Gentlemen attending on the Duke. 

Sir Toby Belch, Uncle to Olivia. 

Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, a foolish Knight^ pretend- 

'ing to Olivia. 9 

Dramatis Persons] This list is not in the Folio, but is first given by RowE, 
with, as Dr Johnson says, *all the cant of the modern stage.' 

2. Orsino] Sarrazin {Jahrb, zxxii, i68) : In the winter of 1600-1 a certain 
Duke Orsino attracted the attention of London. Virginio Orsino, Duke of Brac- 
dano, ' the most brilliant nobleman of his day,' was at that time ambassador to the 
English court, and was entertained by Queen Elizabeth and her nobility with elab- 
orate festivities, among others on Twelfth Night Possibly, this suggested to Shake- 
speare the present name. [The date of Duke Orsino' s presence at the English 
court is somewhat too late for the composition of Twelfth Nighty if it were already 
a popular play when Manningham saw it in February, 1 601-2. — Ed.] 

7, 8. Sir] It is not easy to comprehend the ' anfractuosities ' of the German mind 
when it deals with the names of Shakespeare's dramatis persona. German trans- 
lators, firom the highest to the lowest, assume the permission, wherever a name 
seems to be a clew to the character, to change Shakespeare's nomenclature, and 
herein they are probably right ; but unfortunately they do not always restrict them- 
selves to this limit Thus here, the knighthood of Sir Toby and Sir Andrew is not 
without its meaning ; the contrast between the dignity of the title and the inferiority 
of the man is sharp enough to create a sense of mild amusement, and it also elevates 
the bearer somewhat in the social plane. Both of these effects are lost when these 
characters are presented, as they always are, to a German audience as Junker, Nor 
is the effect restored when, instead of the familiar nickname, ' Toby,' we have the 
sonorous, somewhat Puritanic Tobias^ given in full. Whatever humour there is in 
Junker is silenced in Tobias, But what is to be said of Schlegel's change of ' Sir 
Andrew ' into Junker Christoph^ a change which is still retained by Dr Schmidt in 
his revision, for The German Shakespeare Society ^ of Schlegel's translation? Is it 
one of the anfractuosities that to German ears Christoph is funnier than < Andrew ' 
or Andreas as other translators have it ? That ' Belch ' should be translated Rulp^ 
and ' Ague-cheek * Bleichwangen is harmless enough, probably right ; as President 
Lincoln was wont to say : ' for those who like this kind of thing, this is just the 
kind of thing those people would like.' I doubt, however, that any such palliation 
will cover the translation of an historic name like Hotspur into Heissspom; or 
z I 


A Sea-Captcdnj Friend to Viola lO 

Fabian, Servant to Olivia. 

Malvolio, a fantastical Steward to Olivia. 1 2 

even ' Juliet ' into Julia^ which is, I think, universal in Germany. The indignant 
derision would be kolossal which Germans would heap on an English translator who 
should convert * Gretchen * into Peggy, — Ed. 

7. Uncle] Inasmuch as Sir Toby in the very first words that he utters styles 
Olivia his < niece,' RowE and others call him her < uncle ' here and throughout ; 
possibly, overlooking the fact that Maria, in her reply to Sir Toby, says 'your 
cousin, my lady.' Olivia herself never speaks of Sir Toby as her uncle, but 
addresses him as * cousin,' and, in IV, i, in her vehement anger at his attack on 
Sebastian, she calls him, not only plain ' Toby,' but < Rudesby,' * ungracious wretch,' 
and ' ruffian,' — terms barely consonant with the respect due from a niece to her 
uncle. Readers of Shakespeare will recall many instances of the vagueness with 
which the word ' cousin ' is ' used to denote degrees of relationship, and if their 
memory halt, Schmidt's Lexicon will abundantly jog it. Possibly, Sir Toby was 
Olivia's nearest male relative, and so near of an age, that it is only by assuming the 
closer and more august relationship of uncle that he can magnify in the eyes of Sir 
Andrew and Fabian (who alone accept his claim) the influence which he would fain 
have them believe he possessed over his wealthy relative. — Ed. 

11. Fabian] Hunter (i, 396): The name of Fabian was probably suggested 
by the name of Fabia, which Lelia in [GP Ingannati] assumed in her disguise. 
[Hunter believed that the present play was founded on Gl* Ingannati; nay, he 
could almost persuade himself that Shakespeare had used the identical copy which 
he had then before him. To him, therefore, this suggestion was ' probable,' but to 
me, who cannot thus circumscribe Shakesp>eare's resources, the suggestion is unlikely. 
Moreover, Fabia is not the name which Lelia assumes, but Fabio ; this, however, is 
hardly material. — Ed. ] 

12. Malvolio] Farmer : This name seems to have been formed by an accidental 
transposition in the word Malivolo, — Hunter (i, 396) : Malvolio is a happy adapta- 
tion from Malevolti, a character in the II Sacrificio. \^Il SacrificiOy be it observed, 
is a so-called * Comedia,' which precedes GV Ingannati ^ the comedy whereon Shake- 
speare, as Hunter believes, founded the present play. (See Preface, or Appendix: 
77ie Source of the Plot,) Hunter's remark in regard to Malvolio' s name conveys 
the impression that H Sacrificio is a comedy in the ordinary acceptation of the word, 
which it certainly is not. It appears that in 1 53 1 there existed in Siena a society who 
called themselves GP Intronati, or The Thunderstruck^ and that during the festiv- 
ities of the Carnival in that year they performed this 'Comedia' of // Sacrificio^ 
wherein the members of the Society, under the leadership of the ' sodo dignissimo 
Archintronato,' sacrificed to the flames the mementoes of their love, singing madrigals 
the while to the .accompaniment of a lyre. The offerings are eminently sentimental, 
such as ' a handkerchief bathed with tears,' ' a lock of hair,' * a silver love-knot,' 
' a glove of his Donna,' etc. Nowhere do the performers appear under their own 
names, but as * The Sad One,' * The Stunned One,' * The Fantastical One,' etc. 
The solitary exception is the instance mentioned by Hunter, where the madrigal is 
entitled : Messer Agnol Maleuolli un Cupido scolpito^ dono delta sua donna ; and in 
the madrigal itself Messer Malevolti reproaches the little sculptured god with the 
loss of those joys which he had foretold him, and recalls the fair promises given by 


Clown J Servant to Olivia. 1 3 

Olivia, a- Lady of great Beauty and Fortune^ 

beloi/d by the Duke. 15 

Viola, in love with the Duke. 
Maria, Confident to Olivia. 

Priest^ Sailors y Officers ^ and other Attendants. 1 8 

13. Clown,] Feste, a clown. Cam. 17. Confident...] Olivia's Woman 

14. a...Fortiine,] a rich Countess. Rowe ii. Olivia's Waiting-woman 
Steev. Wh. i. 

16. in...Duke.] sister to Sebastian. 18. OflBcers,] two Officers of Justice. 

Cap. Cap. 

his mistress when she made him this present ; and how bitterly those promises had 
failed. Wherefore, Cupid is no longer worthy to be called a god ; but shall expiate 
in the fire the numberless wounds he has caused, and shall prove in his own image 
how sweet is the flame. The likelihood is extremely small, I think, that Shakespeare, 
even granting that he had ever read H Sacri/icio, took the trouble to coin ' Malvolio' 
out of MalevoUiy when he had before him, on Hunter's own supposition, the long 
list of Dramatis Personse of GV Ingannatu There is nothing whatsoever in Male- 
volti's madrigal which corresponds to the character which Shakespeare gives to- 
Malvolio. — Ed.] 

13. Clown] As we learn from II, iv, 13, this Clown's name is Feste (a disyllabic]. 
Walker (Crit, i, 2), on the analogy of Anselme for Anselmo^ thinks that, perhaps, 
this name should be Festo, The Cowden-Clarkes remark that it is a name, aptly 
invented by Shakespeare, ' from the Italian festeggiante which Florio explains : 
"Feasting, merrie, banqueting, pleasant, of good entertainment."' 

14. Olivia] C. Elliot Browne (Athenaum^ 20 June, 1874) : Shakespeare 
was, probably, indebted for the names of the heroines of Twelfih Night to the first 
part of Emanuel Forde's Parismus^ the Renowned Prince of Bohemia^ London, 
1598, for neither Olivia nor Viola occurs in the Ingannati. In the romance, Olivia 
is Queen of Thessaly, and Violetta the name of a lady, who, unknown to her lover, 
disguises herself as a page to follow him, and she, also like Viola, is shipwrecked. 
If thb conjecture is founded on fact, the negative evidence that Twelfih Night was 
written after 1598, afforded by its omission in Meres' s list, is confirmed. [I have no 
sjrmpathy with an estimate of Shakespeare's originality which would send him a-field 
or to any one particular authority for the names of his heroines. If, in the sources 
of his plots, the names were euphonious, he retained them ; if they were not, he 
changed them. Euphony guided his choice, wheresoever the names were found. 
To say that he took * Olivia' from Forde's Parismus would be paralleled by saying 
that Tennyson took from the present play the name of his heroine in The Talking 


16. Viola] Steevens : Viola is the name of a lady in the fifth book of Gower 
de Confessione Amantis, — Gen6e (Klass, FrauenbUdery 79) : The name Viola is 
given to her because of her exquisite grace, and because of her concealment, under 


Scene a City on the Coast of Illyria. 19 

19. a ... Illyria.] a Citj of Illyria, coast near it Cap. 
Residence of the Duke ; and the Sea- 
cover whereof she could cherish, like a secret treasure, the longings of her loving 

19. Scene] W. Winter (Shadows of the Stage , iii, 28) : It is even more difficult 
to assign a place and a period for Twelfth Night than it is to localise As You Like It. 
Illyria, — now Dalmatia, Croatia, and Bosnia, — ^was a Roman province, a hundred 
and sixty-seven years before Christ. In Shakespeare's time, Dalmatia was under the 
rule of the Venetian republic. The custom has long prevailed of treating the piece 
as a romantic and poetic picture of Venetian manners in the seventeenth century. 
Some stage managers have used Greek dresses. For the purposes of the stage, there 
must be a 'local habitation.* For a reader, the scene of Twelfth Night is the elusive 
and evanescent, but limitless and immortal, land of dreams. 


A6lus Primus , Sccena Prima. 

Enter Orjino Duke of Illyriay Curio ^ and other 


F Muficke be the food of Loue, play on, 4 

Giue me exceffe of it : that furfetting, 
The appetite may ficken, and fo dye. 
That ftraine agen, it had a dying fall : 7 

Twelfe Night,] Twelfe-Night F^. and Lords. Rowe. Musick attending. 
Twelf-Nighl F^. Cap. 

1. Primus,] Primus. Ff. 4-10. As mnemonic, Warb. 
Scaena] Scena F^F^. 4. <wi,] on; Theob. 

The Palace. Rowe et cet. (subs.) 5. furfetting] furfetting F^. 

2. Enter...] Enter the Duke, Curio, 7. agen] again Rowe. 

I. Twelfe Night] Farmer : A very ingenious lady, with whom I have the 
honour to be acquainted, Mrs Askew of Queen* s-Square, has a fine copy of the 
Second Folio, which formerly belonged to King Charles I. and was a present from 
him to Sir Thomas Herbert. Sir Thomas has altered five titles in the list of plays, 
to Benedick [«V] and Beatrice, — Pyramus and Thisby, — Rosalinde, — ^Mr Paroles, — 
and Malvolio. — Steevens : Dr Fanner might have observed that the alterations of 
the titles are in his Majesty's own hand-writing, materially differing from Sir Thomas 
Herbert's, of which the same volume affords more than one specimen. The book is 
now in my possession. [Halliwell : It is now in the library of her present Majesty 
at Windsor Castle.] Theobald (Nichols, ii, 354) acknowledged to Warburton that 
he could not decide whether or not this title ' arose from the time of year at which it 
was performed.' * There is no circumstance,' he goes on to say, * that I can observe 
in the Flay to give occasion to this name ; nothing either to fix it down particularly 
to Tkoflfth Night, — or to leave it so loose and general a description as What You 
Will,* Possibly the same uncertainty beset subsequent editors, or it may have been 
indifference, or it may have been acquiescence in the plain meaning of the words 
without seeking for any hidden meaning. Knight was the first to break silence. 
He speaks of the * neutral title of Twelfth Night,* whereby, I suppose, he means 
that the title indicates neither a purely poetic nor a purely comic work. 'This 
li^tr/ra/ title,' he says (p. 185) * — conveying as it does a notion of genial mirth, — 



TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. L 

[I. Twelfe Night.] 
might warrant us in thinking that there was a preponderance of the comic spirit. 
Charles I. appears to have thought so, when, in his copy of the Second Folio, he 
altered the title with his own pen to that of Malvolio. But Malvolio is not the pre- 
dominant idea of the comedy ; nor is he of that exclusive interest that the whole 
action, even of the merely comic portions, should turn upon him. When Shake- 
speare means one character to be the centre of the dramatic idea, he for the most 
part tells us so in his title : — Hamlet, Othello, Lear, Alacbeth, Timon. Not one of 
the comedies has such a personal title, for the evident reason that the effect in them 
must mainly depend upon the harmony of all the parts, rather than upon the absorb- 
ing passion of the principal character. The Twelfth Night is especially of this 
description. It presents us with the golden and silver sides of human life, — the 
romantic and the humourous. But the two precious metals are moulded into one 
statue.' Hunter, who skillfully detected the author of an anonymous Diary 
kept by a member of the Middle Temple (see Pre/ace, or Appendix, Date of the 
Play), believed that Shakespeare took his plot from an Italian comedy, GP Ingan- 
Moti, * A phrase occurring in a long prologue or preface prefixed to this play in the 
Italian appears to me,' says Hunter (i, 396), 'to have suggested the title Twelfth 
Night, which has no kind of propriety or congruity when looked at in connection 
with the play ; and this must have been evident to Shakespeare himself, since he 
adds to it or IVhat You fViU, It might be called Twelfth Night or by whatever 
other name. In perusing this prologue or preface the eye of Shakespeare would 
fall upon the following passage : *' The story is new, never seen or read, and only 
dipped for and taken out of their own industrious noddles as your prize-tickets are 
dipped for and taken out on Twelfth Night [/tz notte di Beffana"], by which it appears 
to you that the Intronati might have answered you so much upon this part of the 
declaration,'' etc' This supposition of Hunter that Shakespeare was led to the 
choice of his title by the revels of Epiphany (apparent in the Italian ' Bef- 
fana') is accepted by B. Nicholson (N <5r* Qu, VI, ix, 165) and 'reinforced by 
the suggestion that this humourous play, being one in every way fitted for the 
season and revels then held, was written for and first produced by Shakespeare at a 
representation on that night, and that he thence so named it. It was a Twelfth 
Night, or what you will for Twelfth Night, just as for Christmas our writers and 
managers have for many years produced pantomimes. Jonson and other authorities 
could be quoted for plays and masques on these Twelfth-Night festivities.' Nichol- 
son then proceeds to quote an illustration in point from the less known Diary of 
Henry Machin {Cam, Soc, p. 222). But this meaning does not suit Ulrici, 
who, in the alternative title, verily sees < fantasies, more than cool reason ever com- 
prehends.' 'This What You IViJI,* says Ulrici (ii, 5), 'refers indeed to the relation 
between the public and the play, but not, as has been supposed, in the sense quite 
inadmissible, that the piece was to give and to represent whatever the s|>ectators 
wished. This is not the case ; the play rather creates what it wishes, and the better 
it is the less can that which it gives be different from what it is. The title is rather 
intended to signify that that which men all like to see represented is ever the same ; 
namely, a chequered, a varied life, rich in incidents and crossed by misfortunes and 
complications, one that excites interest and keeps up a state of suspense, but which, 
nevertheless, does not exceed the bounds of ordinary human life, even though it 
leads to a happy and harmonious ending through unusual, strange and winding paths. 
We are, in reality, all as little fond of an existence which passes with nothing 


[I. Twelfe Night.] 
unusual, suiprising, or exciting to the imagination, where everything happ>ens accord- 
ing to well-considered aims and objects, as we are of the reverse, a life governed 
solely by chance, whim, and caprice. We would all prefer the greatest possible 
equality in the mixture of the usual and unusual, of accident and intention, of whim 
and reflection, imagination and reason. It is not merely the experiencing such a life, 
the very beholding it produces that gaiety, that inward contentment, at which we are 
all aiming. And thus Shakespeare could with justice, — especially of this one of his 
comedies,— maintain that it represented «* What You (all) Will." ' Thus far Ulrid. 
Let the corrective be happily administered by a fellow-countryman. At the close of 
an article in the Premsische Jahrb&cher, (July, 1887,) Conrad says (p. 35) : * Assur- 
edly, when Shakespeare gave a title to the ripest fruit of his comic Muse, he had no 
intrusive, covert meaning; he wished to say merely, — '* Herein are to be found 
comicalities of all kinds, braggadocios, and chickenhearted simpletons, roistering and 
revelling, ill-conditioned hypocrisy and intolerance, false love and true love, disguises 
and delusions and mad pranks. What to call it, I know not Call it < a masquerade,' 
• a Twelfth Night,* or * Whatever you Like.* ** To any deeper meaning which pos- 
terity might find underlying this title, he gave never a thought. Here in this drama 
we have on one canvas a realistic picture of the life of the Renaissance, with its 
splendour and its joyousness, with its weaknesses and its follies, with its life of lofty 
developement of mind and spirit, — such as hardly a second picture in that time 
affords. In it we find every comic element united in an artistic harmony, whereof 
the strength and beauty stand unparalleled ; in it we find all things soever that are 
to be asked for in a comedy . ^absolutely What you wUlJ* Malone [Var. *2i, ii, 
442) notes that * the Comedy of What You Will, which was entered at Stationers* 
Hall, August 9, 1607, was certainly Marston*s play.* Halliwell (p. 247) adds : 
•In Tatham*s Ostella, or the Faction of Love and Beauty, 1 650, mention is made 
of a play called The Whisperer , or What you Please , which is an instance of a 
double title formed on that of Twelfth Night,' —RuGGUiS (p. 15) : The title 
evidently has reference to the subject of the play, which is Man in his relations to 
Pleasure and Pastime. This title, though suggestive of license, involves morality. 
As the play gives us a phase of life in which excess seems to be the rule, and mod- 
eration the exception, Shakesp>eare, who is ever loyal to morality, notifies us by the 
title that it is merely a mirthful, comic entertainment, which looks at life as it is seen 
under its most genial aspect ; an ideal picture, from which all view of serious affairs 
is excluded. [It is almost superfluous to add that Conrad* s view seems to be the 
true one. — Ed.] 

I. Atftus Primus] For Spedding*s division of Acts, see I, iv, 46. 

I. Scaena Prima] Coleridge (p. 209) : Of more importance [than the signifi- 
cancy of the title, and] so, more striking, is the judgement displayed by our truly 
dramatic poet, as well as poet of the drama, in the management of his first scenes. 
With the single exception of Cymbeline, they either place before us at one glance 
both the past and the future in some effect, which implies the continuance and full 
agency of its cause, as in the feuds and party-spirit of the servants of the two houses 
in the first scene of Romeo and Juliet ; or the degrading passion for shews and public 
spectacles, and the overwhelming attachment for the newest successful war-chief 
in the Roman people, already become a populace, contrasted with the jealousy of 
the nobles in Julius Casar;— or they at once commence the action so as to excite a 
curiosity for the explanation in the following scenes, as in the storm of wind and 

8 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. i. 

[i. Sc«na Prima.] 
waves, and the boatswain in TTu Tempest ^ instead of anticipating our cariosity, as in 
most other first scenes, and in too many other first Acts ; — or they act, by contrast of 
diction suited to the characters, at once to heighten the effect, and yet to give a 
naturalness to the language and rhythm of the principal personages, either as that 
of Prospero and Miranda, by the appropriate lowness of the style, — or as in King 
Johtiy by the equally appropriate stateliness of official harangues or narratives, so 
that the after blank verse seems to belong to the rank and quality of the speakers, 
and not to the poet ; — or they strike at once the key-note, and give the predominant 
spirit of the play, as in Twelfth Night and in Macbeth ; — or finally, the first scene 
comprises all these advantages at once, as in Hamlet. 

4-6. If Musicke ... so dye] Warburton : There is an impropriety of expres- 
sion in the present reading of this fine passage. We do not say, that the appetite 
sickens and dies thrd a surfeit ; but the subject of that appetite. I am persuaded, 
a word is accidentally dropt ; and that we should read, and point, the passage thus : 
' that, surfeiting The app'tite. Love may sicken, and so die.' — Johnson : It is true, 
we do not talk of the death of appetite^ because we do not ordinarily speak in the 
figurative language of poetry ; but that appetite sickens by a surfeit is true, and there- 
fore proper. — Mrs Griffith (p. 119) : The duke is made to wish his passion were 
extinct; which, I believe, the most unhappy lover never yet did. We wish to 
remove every uneasy sensation it afflicts us with, by any means whatever ; some- 
times even by death itself ; but never by the extinction of the affection. — W. A. 
Wright : Compare Ant. &* Cleop, II, v, i : *■ Give me some music ; music, 
moody food Of us that trade in love.' [Wherever this passage has been para- 
phrased, the interpretation of Warburton and of Mrs Griffith has been followed, 
namely, that ' the food of love ' is the food on which love feeds, and that < appetite ' 
refers to love ; the conclusion follows that Orsino longs to be freed from his thraldom 
to Olivia. I do not so understand the passage. It is not to be believed that Orsino 
wishes his love for Olivia to die. His words and deeds throughout contradict it. He 
by no means wishes music to diminish his love, a result, as Mrs Griffith justly says, 
no lover ever prayed for, but to increase it to the very utmost. Not till music has 
exhausted its power, must its services in the cause of love cease. This interpretation 
is justified, I think, if we understand music to be, not that on which love feeds, but,' 
that which feeds love ; in this sense, Orsino says in effect : Give me excess of music, 
let it feed love beyond measure, even to a surfeit of itself ; so that when it has done 
all that it can, and love is full-fed, the appetite or desire for music sickens and ceases. 

5. surfetting] It is hardly worth while to pay much attention to the spelling, in 
the Folio, of ordinary words where there is no question of obscurity. It is not 
Shakespeare's spelling, but a printer's, and one, who, to judge by his performance, is 
not altogether worthy of our idolatry. We have ' surfetted to death ' in Oth. II, i, 56, 
and 'the never surfeited sea' in Temp. Ill, iii, 76 ; *• the surfeit of sweetest things' 
in Mid. N D. II, ii, 143, and ' surfet with too much ' in Mer. of Ven. I, ii, 6. 
The plays were set up by various compositors, and each one followed his own 
spelling. — Ed. 

7. That straine agen] This is addressed to the Musicians, as is also, ' Enough, 
no more,' in line 10. In both instances there should be, I think, in a modem text, a 
period after them, with a dash before and after, to indicate a change of address. — Ed. 

7. a dying fall] Holt White : Hence Pope in his Ode on St, Cecilia's Day : 

Acri.sci.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 9 

O, it came ore my eare, like the fweet found 8 

That breathes vpon a banke of Violets ; 

Stealing, and giuing Odour. £^nough, no more, 10 

8. /ound'\ Ff, Roweii, Knt, Hal. Sta. Cam. scent MS Dent ap. Hal. 
Wh. Hunter, Cam. Glo. Rife, Wrt, Ver- 9. VioUis ,] VioUts, F^, Rowe et seq. 

ity, E. Lee, Innes, Cholmely. Wind 10. Y.noughy'\ Hush ! Pope, Han. 

Rowe i. South-wind Ktly. South Pope [Musick ceases. Cap. 

et cet sou^wind or sough Anon. ap. 

'The strains decay. And melt away, In a dying, dying fall' [lines 19-21]. Again, 
Thomson, in his Springs line 722, speaking of the Nightingale : ' — Still at every 
dying fall Takes up again her lamentable strain Of winding woe.' Knight gives 
a general reference to Comus, as containing ' fall ' thus used. In the passage, 
beginning with line 251, we find: * How sweetly did they flote upon the wings Of 
silence, through the empty vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven downe 
Of darknesse till she smil'd.' — Facsimile of the MS of Milton* s Minor Poems ^ 
p. 14.— Ed. tl^^^ '., *^.r<lx /'•♦•• 

8-10. sound . . . Odour] Theobald in his correspondence with Warburton 
{Nichols, ii, 354) expresses a preference for Rowe's reading tvinJ, and adds that he 
does not know that Shakespeare ' anywhere expresses an opinion of the sweetness 
of the South,* which is Pop>e's reading and afterward adopted by Theobald in his 
own edition. This change of ' sound ' to South maintained its place in the text 
without question for nigh a hundred and twenty years, from Pope to Knight. 
Steevens, in the meantime, suggested that the thought may have been borrowed 
irom Sidney's Arcadia, 1590 : * her breath is more sweete then a gentle South-west 
wind, which comes creeping ouer flowrie fieldes and shadowed waters in the extreame 
heate of sommer, and yet is nothing, compared to the hony flowing speach that 
breath doth carrie ; no more all that our eyes can see of her . . . is to be matched 
with the flocke of vnspeakable vertues, laid up delightfully in that best builded fold.' 
(ed. 1598, lib. i, p. 2. A longer extract is here given than that given by Steevens, 
in order to bfing in certain phrases, wherein subsequent editors have found proofs 
that Shakespeare had here in mind this passage in the Arcadia. Furthermore, in 
reference to 'Stealing . . . odour,' Steevens (Var. '85) observes that, * Milton has very 
SQCcessfully introduced the image : " — now gentle gales Fanning their odoriferous 
wings disp>ense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils." ' 
— {Par, Lost, Bk. IV, line 156.) — Knight, the first editor to recall the Shake- 
spearian world to the grey and venerable authority of the Folio, thus pleads for 
'sound': 'Let us consider whether Shakspere was likely to have written 
" sound" or south, which involves the question of which is the better word. In the 
quotation given by Steevens from the Arcadia, the comparison is direct. The sweet 
breath of Urania is more sweet than the gentle southwest wind. Sidney adds, " and 
yet is nothing, compared to the honey-flowing speech that breath doth carry." The 
music of the speech is hot here compared with the music of the wind ; — the notion 
of fragrance is alone conveyed. If in the passage of the text we read south instead 
of " sound," the conclusion of the sentence, " Stealing and giving odour," rests upon 
the mind, and the comparison becomes an indirect one between the harmony of the 
djring fall and the odour of the breeze that had passed over a bank of violets. This, 
we think, is not what the poet meant. He desired to compare one sound with another 

lO TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. i. 

[8-IO. sweet sound . . . Stealing and giuing Odour.] 
sound. Milton had probably this passage in view when he wrote [the passage quoted 
above by Steevens]. The image in Milton, as well as in Shakspere, combines the 
notion of sound as well as fragrance. In Shakspere *' the sound that breathes/' — the 
soft murmur of the breeze playing amidst beds of flowers, — is put first, because of 
its relation to the ''dying fall" of the exquisite harmony; but in Milton the ''per- 
6imes" of the "gentle gales" are more prominent than "the whisper," — ^because 
the image is complete in itself, unconnected with what precedes. Further, Shakspere 
has nowhere else made the s<n»th an odour-breathing wind ; his other representations 
are directly contrary. In As You Like It, Rosalind says, " Like foggy south, puffing 
with wind and rain " [III, v, 54]. In Rom, and Jul, we have the " dew-dropping 
south" [I, iv, 103]. In Cym., "The south-fog rot him" [II, iii, 136]. We prefer, 
therefore, on all accounts to hold to the original text.' Knight's arguments were 
lost on Collier, the next editor, who in his First Edition pronounces south 'a 
manifest improvement of the passage ; and as " sound " for south was an easy mis- 
print, we have continued the alteration, being of opinion, that it is much more likely 
that the printer should have made an error, than that Shakespeare should have 
missed so obvious a beauty.' In his Second Edition Collier's opinion was confirmed 
by finding that ' sound' had been erased and south substituted in the corrected Folio 
of 1632. — Halliwell [upholding 'sound']: The Duke intends the imagery to 
refer to the strain, which 'had a dying fall,' and came o'er his ear like the sweet 
low hum of the summer air, without allusion to any particular quarter whence the 
wind may come. — Staunton : If south were the poet's word, he must have employed 
it, not in the sense Pope intended of south-wind, but as south, sowth, or sough is used 
in the North, to signify the soft whisper of the breeze : ' The soft south of the swyre, 
and sound of the stremes,' etc — Dunbar^ Maitland*s Poems, p. 64. Dyce adopts 
south in all three of his editions and ignores discussion. — R. G. White : It is not 
easy to discover the supposed difficulty in the original text, in which the effect, that 
is, the sweet sound, is by a beautiful metonjrmy put for the cause, the wind. Knight 
remarks that the question between ' sound' and south is, ' which is the better word.' 
There is no such question admissible. ^ If in the place of ' sound ' there were some 
word without meaning, or even with a meaning incongruous with the tone of the 
passage, and « sound ' and ' south ' were proposed as substitutes, then, indeed, there 
would be a question as to which is the better word. But ' sound ' appears in the 
authentic text, and, to say the least, is comprehensible and appropriate, and is there- 
fore not to be disturbed, except by those who hold that Shakespeare must have 
written that which they think best But did Pope, or the editors who have followed 
him, ever lie musing on the sward at the edge of a wood, and hear the low, sweet 
hum of the summer air, as it kissed the coyly-shrinking wild flowers upon the banks, 
and passed on, loaded with fragrance from the sweet salute ? If they ever did, how 
could they make this change of ' sound ' to south ? and if they never did, they are 
unable to entirely appreciate the passage, much less to improve it. Walker ( Crit. 
iii, 82) proposed wind as an emendation for ' sound,' not knowing that he had been 
anticipated by Rowe. He then continues : ' In the passage of the Arcadia quoted 
by [Steevens] the wind is not the [south] but the south-west ; and I suspect that 
[Sidney] had a passage of some Greek or Roman poet in view, were it merely on 
accoimt of the very different character of our English south-wester.' Of this note 
of Walker, Lettsom says : ' I can scarcely agree with what [Walker] says on the 
passage from the Arcadia. A south-wester is a heavy gale from the south-west ; but 

ACT I. sc. L] OR, WHA T YOU WILL 1 1 

[8-IO. sweet sound . . . Stealing and gluing Odour.] 
we often have genial, bright, and growing weather from that quarter as well as from 
the south. Such was the weather that Shakespeare probably had in view when he 
put this speech into the mouth of the lovelorn Orsino. One verse in particular, — 
*'it had a dying fall,'* seems inspired by the soft, balmy, but somewhat moist, 
relaxing, and languor-breathing air, which is peculiar to the two winds in question. 
... It is utterly impossible that Shakespeare could have described a sound as steal- 
ing and giving odours. Sounds sometimes tickle, and sometimes torture, our ears ; 
but they are incapacitated by nature from affecting our noses.' — ^The Cow den - 
Clarkes : South has always had so perfectly the effect to our ear and feeling of 
having been Shakespeare's word here, that we cannot bring ourselves to doubt its 
being the right one in this passage. We cannot believe that he would have employed 
the expression 'sound' to imply that which Ogives odour'; whereas 'the sweet 
south ' at once suggests that balmy air which Shakespeare elsewhere places in 
extremity of contrast with the fierce * septentrion ' and ' frozen bosom of the north.' 
Not merely do we fancy that Shakespeare may have been thinking of the extract 
from the Arcadia quoted by Steevens, — especially of the expression, ' the flock of 
unspeakable virtues ' which is paralleled by Shakespeare's < the flock of all affections ' 
in line 4I, — but we also believe that he may have had before his mind Bacon's sen- 
tence of similar beauty, ' the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it 
comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand.' — Keigutley {Exp. 
174) : A sound breathing is pure nonsense. Even Pope's correction does not remove 
the difficulty, for south alone, no more than northy east, or west^ is never used for the 
wind. [See Knight's references supra to As You Like It, III, v, 54 and Rom. and 
Jul, I, iv, 103. * Never' and * always ' are extremely dangerous words, in a Shake- 
spearian note. — Ed.] It seems to me then that the poet wrote south-wind ^ and as 
the tk was usually suppressed in souths north , etc. , as iotC -west, sou* -east, the printer 
pronounced sou wind or, it may be, sot^ind, which easily became 'sound' in his 
mind, and so he printed it. It is rather remarkable that this very correction is made 
by an Anon, in the Cam. Edition. Rolfe (after quoting the notes of Knight and 
of R. G. White, continues) : When the Folio reading can be so eloquently defended 
we do not feel justified in departing from it ; but we nevertheless have our doubts 
whether Shakespeare wrote sound. It is a serious objection to south that he always 
refers to that wind as bringing fog and rain. If he employed the word here, it may 
have been, as Staunton suggests, in the sense of souths sowth, or sough. If we retain 
sound, we must make it refer, as Knight and White do, to the sweet murmur of the 
breeze. This was doubtless what Pope understood to be the meaning of the simile. 
It is not likely that, in substituting south, he intended to make the comparison 
between the effect of music on the ear and that of fragrance on the sense of smell. 
Why then did he think it necessary to make any change in the expression of the 
simile ? Because as a poet he felt that it was more poetical to refer to the wind, the 
personified source of the sound, as breathing on the bank of violets, than to speak 
of the ' sound ' itself. The difference seems to us almost that between poetry and 
prose. We cannot agree with Knight that the substitution of south gives too much 
prominence to the ' indirect ' comparison of the harmony to the odour. Whichever 
word we adopt, the main and direct comparison is between the music and the murmur 
of the wind ; this is at once strengthened and beautified by the reference to the odour. 
It will be noticed that the poet dwells on this secondary comparison ; he is not satis- 
fied with describing the wind as breathing on the bank of violets, but adds the 

12 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. i. 

[8-IO. sweet sound . . . Stealing and giuing Odour.] 
exquisite stealing and giving odour, Milton has a direct comparison of sound to 
fragrance in a very beautiful passage in Comus, 555 fol. : ' hi last a soft and 
solemn-breathing sound Rose like a steam of rich distill' d perfumes, And stole 
upon the air.' — Hudson: Pope's change is most certainly right. For with what 
propriety can a sound be said to ' breathe upon a bank of violets, stealing and giving 
odour'? Moreover, in the old reading, we have a comparison made between a thing 
and itself! It is as much as to say, * The sweet sound came o'er my ear like the 
sweet sound.' The Poet evidently meant to compare the music to a sweet breeze 
loaded with fragrance ; the former coming over the ear as the latter comes over 
another sense. So that the old reading is simply absurd. Knight and Grant 
White waste a deal of ingenious and irrelevant rhetoric in trying to make it good ; 
but nothing of that sort can redeem it from absurdity. And by the methods they 
use we can easily read almost any sense we please into whatever words come before 
us. In this case, they but furnish an apt illustration of how a dotage of the old 
letter, and a certain exegetical jugglery, may cheat even good heads into an utter 
dereliction of common sense. [It is not unlikely, I think, that Hudson will prove 
to be the last editor to adopt Pope's change. The excellent text of the Globe 
Edition bids fair to become the accepted standard ; in the present instance it has 
judiciously followed the Folio. The difficulty here, where a sound is said to give 
forth an odour, is parallel to that where Hamlet speaks of * taking arms against a 
sea of troubles,' and is due, I think, to the thick-coming fancies of a poetic imagi- 
nation rather than to a common confusion of ideas, or to a blameworthy mixture of 
metaphors. We must remember that we are dealing with poetry, not prose ; and, 
surely, in poetry, when imagination is once on the wing, a man may be supposed 
to take up arms, the shield of faith and the sword of the spirit, against troubles 
which come wave on wave upon him like a sea. Similarly, in the present line, one 
sense, that of hearing, may be, with the swiftness of thought, supplemented or 
endued with the functions of the other senses. Who can define the infinitely 
subtle laws of association ? Both in and out of Shakespeare innumerable instances 
are to be found of this blending, this identity even, of all the senses. Is it not 
a prerogative of poetry? Bassanio tells Antonio that from Portia's eyes he received 
speechless messages. lago says that Desdemona's eye sounds a parley. Ulysses 
says of Cressida that her foot speaks. In the twenty-third Sonnet, Shake- 
speare speaks of hearing with the eyes. Ariel says of Stephano and Trinculo 
that they lifted up their noses as though they smelled music. And in this present 
play Sir Toby speaks of hearing by the nose. And in V, i, 113, Olivia says that 
the Duke's words are *as fat and fulsome to mine ear as howling after Musick' 
where the sense of taste is referred to the hearing. What more familiar expression is 
there than ' the language of the eye '? In Exodus (x, 21 ) we have ' darkness which may 
be felt.' A better example can be hardly found than the passage in ComuSy quoted by 
Rolfe, which is worth recalling, because, so it seems to me, Milton was there, quite 
possibly, influenced by this very passage in Thvelftk Night, which, by the way, he 
could have read only in the first three Folios, wherein the word * sound ' was as yet 
uncomipted by Rowe or Pope. In Milton's MS, lines 555, 556 of Comus read : 
< At last a soft & sollemne breathing sound rose like a steame of rich distill'd per- 
fumes,' and it is unusually interesting to note that Milton deliberated over the use of 
soft, stilly or sweet (Shakespeare's own word) as applied to ' sound,' and finally 
decided on 'soft'; and again he hesitated between rich and slow, (For this] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 13 

'Tis not fo fweet now, as it was before. 1 1 

O fpirit of Loue, how quicke and frefli art thou. 

That notwithftanding thy capacitie, 

Receiueth as the Sea. Nought enters there, 

Of what validity, and pitch fo ere, 1 5 

12. thou,"] thou ! Rowe. 14. there, '\ thee Daniel. 
Loue,^ lave! Coll. 15. pitch'\ pith Gould. 

13, 14. ThcU ... capacitie, ... Sea. fo erel/o ^reY^^y'Romt, soever 
Nought"] That,,., capacity,,. sea, nought Cap. Rann. 

Rowe ii, et seq. 

glimpse into his mind we are indebted to the inestimable Facsimile of his MS, pre- 
pared with minutest care by Dr W. Aldis Wright) Again, Shelley, in The Sensi- 
tive Plant, Part i, has, < And the hyacinth purple, and white and blue, Which flung 
from its bells a sweet peal anew Of music so delicate, soft, and intense. It was felt 
like an odour within the sense.' And also in Part iii, < — the sensitive plant Felt 
the sound of the funeral chant' Lastly, in the immortal Ode, Wordsworth apos- 
trophises < thou eye among the blind. That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep.' 
Both R. G. White and W. A. Wright explain the present use of 'sound' as an 
instance of metonymy, where the effect is put for the cause. A wind strong enough 
to produce a sound would have to be, I fear, more boisterous than the sununer air 
which breathes upon a bank of violets. However, the name whereby we classify the 
figure is of small consequence, if the examples just gathered be considered parallel. 
Under their influence the ears of the deafest of us may be blest by hearing a sweet 
sound that steals and gives odour. — Ed.] 

10. Stealing] Malone : Here Shakespeare makes the wind steal odour from 
the violet In his 99th Sonnet ^ the violet is made the thief. 

10, II. no more . . . before] Heusser {Sh. Jahrbuch, xxviii, 223) observes that 
this rhyme strengthens the supposition that in Shakespeare rhymes supplied the place 
of stage-directions ; its present use is an intimation to the musicians to cease. [The 
supposition is well-founded, but is hardly applicable here, inasmuch as the Duke had 
just commanded the music to cease. The rhyme is probably accidental. — Ed.] 

12. spirit] Walker {Crit. i, 193) says that it may be safely laid down as a canon 
that this word, in our old poets, wherever the metre does not compel us to pronounce 
it disyllabically, is a monosyllable. See Mer.ofVen, V, i, 96 ; Macbeth^ IV, i, 127 ; 
Mid. N.D. II, i, 32, of this edition. 

12. quicke] This, of course, means living, vigorous. 

13. That] For other examples where 'that' means in that, see Abbott, 


14. Sea. Nought] If the punctuation of the Folio were right, 'Receiveth' 

should be Receivest. Rowe properly changed the period after * sea ' to a comma. 

14. there] W. A. Wright : This refers grrammatically to the sea, to which love 
is compared. The writer's mind passed to the figure from the thing signified. [Does 
not ' there ' refer grammatically to ' capacitie' ? — Ed.] 

15. validity] Malone : Here used for value. [Compare, < more validity. More 
honourable state . . . lives In carrion-flies than ' Romeo,' III, iii, 33 (where note 
the absorption of in in the final n of 'than'). — Ed.] 

15. pitch] Madden (p. 201): This word, signifying in falconry the height to 

14 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. i. 

But falles into abatement, and low price i6 

Euen in a minute ; fo full of fhapes is fancie. 

That it alone, is high fantafticall. i8 

17. minute ;'\ minute! Coll. 18. alone\ a/t c^ er Qmncy MS. 

is /ancie'] in fancy Theob. Warb. high fantaftical ] h igh-fantasfical 

Johns, if s fancy Upton. Var. '78 et seq. (except Hal. Glo. Rife, 

18. That U alone, w] And thou all Wh. u. Wrt, Dtn). 
(^er art Han. 

which a falcon soars or towers (/ Hen. VI: H, iv, \\ \ 2 Hen. VI: H, i, 6; 
Jul. Qes. I, i, 78), was used figuratively (Rich. II: I, i, 109 ; Tit. And. II, i, 14 ; 
Hom. dr* Jul. I, iv, 21 ; Sonn. Ixxxvi, 6), and came to mean height in general 
( Twel. N. I, i, IS ; / Hen. VI: II, iu, 55 ; Rich. Ill: III, vii, 188 ; Sonn, vii, 
9). [In Hamlet, III, i, 86, we have, in the Ff, 'enterprises of grtai pith and 
moment,' where the Qq give /itch, — a better reading ; as, I think, the present 
passage shows. — Ed.] 

17, 18. is fancie . . . high] Warburton : This complicated nonsense should 
be rectified thus: 'So full of shapes in fancy. That it alone is hight fantastical.' 
That is, love is so full of shapes in fancy, that the name of fantastical is peculiarly 
given to it alone. — Coleridge (p. 120) : Warburton' s alteration of *is' into in is 
needless. ' Fancy ' may very well be interpreted ' exclusive affection,' or ' passion- 
ate preference.' Thus, bird-fanciers, gentlemen of the fancy, that is, amateurs of 
boxing, etc. The play of assimilation, — the meaning one sense chiefly, and yet 
keeping both senses in view, is perfectly Shakespearian. [Inasmuch as Coleridge 
rejects only one of Warburton' s changes, it might be inferred that he accepted the 
other. But it is not likely. Warburton is so dogmatic that it is not easy to listen 
to him with equanimity, but, out of justice to him, we should remember that he 
held the printed text merely as proof sheets, and careless proof sheets in addi- 
tion ; he was not, therefore, let us charitably suppose, criticising Shakespeare, but 
the printers. — Ed.] 

18. alone] Abbott (§ 18) classes this with, *That must needs be sport alone,' 
Mid. N. D. Ill, ii, 123 ; * I am alone the villain of the earth,' Ant. &* Cleop. IV, vi, 
30, and interprets ' alone ' as equivalent to above all things, which does not strike 
me as of the happiest. In Mid. N. D. I prefer unparalleled ; in Ant. 6f* Cleop. 
beyond comparison, and in the present instance, to the exclusion of all others, as 
W. A. Wright interprets it. — Ed. 

12-18. To understand these lines, which are somewhat obscure, I think we should 
observe their intimate connection with the first lines of the Duke's speech. The 
Duke asks for music, and, while listening to it, one strain so touches his love-sick 
soul that he longs to hear it repeated, and yet, after its repetition, he is instantly 
satiated, and, perfect though it was in itself, it has lost all sweetness and the Duke 
wishes to hear no more. Then follow the present lines which are the explana- 
tion and justification of this fickleness. In a poor paraphrase, but the best I can 
oflfer, the Duke says that the spirit of Love, that is, love in its perfection, is so 
full of life and fresh energy in growth, that it receives the whole world, as the 
sea receives the waters of the heavens and the earth ; there is nothing which may 
not minister to it, and yet no sooner is a new element absorbed, (no matter how 
£ur and lovely in itself, like music, for instance, this new element may be,) but 
immediately, even in a minute, it becomes poor and shallow in comparison with 

Acri,sc.i.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 1 5 

Cu. Will you go hunt my Lord ? 

Du. What Cnrioi 20 

Cu. The Hart. 

Du. Why fo I do, the Nobleft that I haue : 
O when mine eyes did fee Oliuia firft, 
Me thought fhe purged the ayre of peftilence ; 
That inflant was I turnM into a Hart, 25 

And my defires like fell and cruell hounds, 

20. Cnrio] F,. Curia F^. 24. In parenthesis, Cap. Knt, Sing. 

23. mine\ my Pope ii, Theob. Warb. ii, Del. Dtn. 

Johns. Var. Mai. Me thoughf^ Methought Rowe. 

love's full sea ; hence, love, with its ever- varying shapes, is never for a moment the 
same, but becomes the very type of what is purely imaginative. — Ed. 

18. high] Inasmuch as this qualifies * fantastical ' and not ' it/ there should be, 
I think, a h3rphen after it. How fond Shakespeare is of ' high ' as an intensive, 
Bartlett's Concordance will abundantly show. — Ed. 

19. go hunt] See * go look,' I, v, 136 ; * go see,* III, iii, 22 ; < go tell,' Mid, 
N. D. I, i, 260 ; *go seeke,* lb. II, i, 13 ; *go and see,' Wint. TaUy III, ii, 220,— 
all in this edition. Or Abbott, § 349. 

22. the Noblest] For the sake of the threadbare pun on hart and heart, 
the Duke gets his metaphor confused. In this line, he hunts his heart, the 
noblest part of him ; in the 27th line, he is himself the hart and his desires hunt 
him. — Ed. 

24. Me . . . pestilence] Capell (p. 140) : The only mention of seeing Olivia 
causes the speaker a starting from his begun subject, and the matter of [this present 
line] is extraneous ; it's sense, — that she had something so sweet about her, that the 
air was purg'd by it. [Accordingly, Capell placed this line in parenthesis ; wherein 
he was followed though with some reluctance by Knight, who, after quoting Capell' s 
remark that the matter of the line is < extraneous,' says] Of this we are not sure. 
The Duke complains that when he Brst saw Olivia he was < tum'd into a hart '; but 
he had thought, mistakingly, that she * purg'd the air of pestilence,' — removed those 
malignant influences from the air which caused his transformation. In this sense 
* pestilence ' has the same meaning as the * taking airs ' in Lear, Whether this be 
the sense or not, the line is decidedly parenthetical. [Happily, Capell' s followers 
in the use of a parenthesis are few. The punctuation of the Folio can be improved 
only by a comma after 'methought,' and an exclamation mark after < pestilence.' I 
doubt that the latter word has any hidden meaning. Orsino speaks with the ecstatic 
exaggeration of a lover. Olivia's purity purged from all impurity the wide cope of 
heaven. — Ed.] 

25. That . . . Hart] Dyce : Compare Petrarch : * Vero dir6, forse e' parrii 
menzogna, Ch' i' senti' trarmi della propria immago, Ed in un cervo solitario, e 
▼ago Di selva in selva, ratto mi transformo, Ed ancor de' miei can fuggo lo stormo.' 
— Canzone I. 

26. fell] Bradley (AC E.D,)\ An adopted form of Old French /•/= Provencal 
fel, Italian fello, fierce, cruel, savage, the extant representative of the popular 
Latin fello^ nominative of fello-em, substantive. 

1 6 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. i. 

Ere fince purfue me. How now what newes from her ? 27 

Enter Valentine. 

Vol. So pleafe my Lord, I might not be admitted, 
But from her handmaid do returne this anfwer : 30 

The Element it felfe, till feuen yeares heate, 

27. Ere\ Eer Rowe. years heat F^, Rowe i, Dtn. years 

28. Enter...] After me Dyce, Cam. ^n^^ Rowe ii, + , Cap. Var. Ran. Dyce 
Sta. ii, iii. Coll. iii, Huds. year^ heat 

2g, plea/e"] please you Ktly. Harness, Knt, Coll. i, ii, Hal. Dyce i, 

30. handmaid^ hand-maid F^F^, Wh. Sta. Cam. Glo. Rife, years heat 
Rowe, +, Cap. ''em Ktly, years heat it Id. conj. 

31. yeares heate\ yeares heaty F . 

27. since pursue] Abbott, § 62 : We [here] find the present tense after < since,* 
to denote an action that is and has been going on since a certain time. [Does not the 
continuousness of the action here depend on the * E'er,* meaning always? — Ed.] 

27. pursue me] Johnson : This image evidently alludes to the story of Acteon, 
by which Shakespeare seems to think men cautioned against too great familiarity 
with forbidden beauty. Acteon, who saw Diana naked, and was torn to pieces by 
his hounds, represents a man, who, indulging his eyes, or his imagination, with the 
view of a woman that he cannot gain, has his heart torn with incessant longing. An 
interpretation far more elegant and natural than that of Sir Francis Bacon, who, in 
his Wisdom of the Ancients^ supposes this story to warn us against enquiring into 
the secrets of princes, by showing that those, who knew that which for reasons of 
state is to be concealed, will be detected and destroyed by their own servants. — 
Malonb : Our author had here undoubtedly Daniel's Sonnet V. in his thoughts : 
'Which tum'd my sport into a Harts dispaire. Which still is chac'd, while I haue 
any breath. By mine owne thoughts, set on me by my Faire : My thoughts (like 
Houndes) pursue me to my death.' — Delia [1592, p. 40, ed. Grosart]. Daniel, 
however, was not the original proprietor of this thought. He appears to have 
borrowed it from Whitney's Emblems^ I5^» P- 15* And Whitney himself should 
seem to have been indebted in this instance to a passage of the Dedication of 
Adlington's Translation of Apuleius. [Malone errs in thinking that Whitney 
was indebted to Adlington. Green (p. 276) shows that Whitney followed Sam- 
bucus, 1564, even using the same woodcut; and probably Sambucus followed 
Alciatus, 1 55 1. Thus we have Shakespeare, the vile plagiarist, drawing his 
inspiration from Daniel, Daniel from Whitney, Whitney from Sambucus, Sambucus 
from Alciatus, — a pleasing and instructive series, — < thus naturalists observe a flea 
Has smaller fleas that on him prey ; And these have smaller still to bite 'em. 
And so proceed ad infinitum.'* Let our souls be instructed by the words of 
W. A. Wright : * The story of Acteon was in fact a commonplace of the time. 
Shakespeare, as we know from an allusion in The Merry Wives of Windsor [and 
in Tit, And. also] had read the story in Golding's Ovid, and did not require others 
to teach him how to apply it.' — Ed.] 

29. So . . . Lord] Deighton : An apologetic preface to a statement : ' If I may 
be pardoned for saying so.' 

29. might] For other examples of the past tense of may in the sense of was able 
or could y see Abbott, {312. 

31. Element] Here, and in III, i, 58, used for the sky. But in III, ir, 127, 

ACT I. sc. i.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 1 7 

Shall not behold her face at ample view : 32 

But like a Cloyftrefle fhe will vailed walke, 

And water once a day her Chamber round 

With eye-offending brine : all this to feafon 35 

34. Chamber] chambers Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. 

where Malvolio says : ' I am not of your element,' it means, of course, sphere 
cf life, 

31. yeares heate] Malone : * Heat ' for heated. The air, till it shall have been 
warmed by seven revolutions of the sun, shall not, etc. — Steevens : Thus, too, 
Chapman, The Nineteenth Odyssey: 'When the sun was set. And darkness rose, 
they slept, till day's fire het Th' enlightened earth.* [1. 593.] — Harness [see 
Text. Nates] : Surely here Shakespeare uses the word, * heat,' as a substantive, in 
the sense of course^ or race. — Dyce : Whether we take ' heat ' as a participle or as a 
substantive, it is equally absurd. [He therefore reads, hence. As a Cambridge 
Editor W. A. Wright agrees with Harness that * heat ' is more probably a sub- 
stantive, and as the Editor of the Clarendon Edition he paraphrases the sentence, 
*till the heat of seven years have passed.' Schmidt (Lex.) also inclines to agree 
with Harness. Were it not so common to find the -r^ omitted in the past participles 
of verbs ending in -te^ -/, and -d (Abbott, § 342, gives a list of twenty-three of 
these verbs and the list is by no means complete) I should be inclined to follow 
Harness ; but the ellipsis demands so much to be supplied, ' till the heat of seven 
years has passed^* that it gives us pause. Merely to express the passage of time, 
winter might have been used instead of summer; but in cold weather, possibly, 
Olivia's face would have been muffled up and then the element could certainly never 
have beheld it at ample view ; therefore summer is chosen when Olivia's beauty could 
be < dedicate to the sun.' Substitute to cool for to ' heat,' and I think we shall feel 
that the past participle is not quite so absurd as Dyce would have it : * The Element 
itself, till seven years coord' Possibly, therefore, < heate' in the sense of heated, 
may be right. — Ed.] 

32. at] Abbott, § 144 : At^ when thus used [in the sense of near] in adverbial 
expressions, now rejects adjectives and genitives as interfering with adverbial brevity. 
Thus we can say * at freedom,' but not <at ample view.' [But we certainly say, 
•at full view.'— Ed.] 

33. vailed] In opposition to the ' ample view ' in the preceding line. 

34. Chamber round] It is possible that this unusual phrase was suggested, 
through a subtle association of ideas, by the preceding * cloistress,' which suggests the 
enclosed walk about a courtyard of a convent ; as a nun paces these four sides of the 
cloisters, so Olivia would daily water with her tears the circuit of her chamber. I 
can find but three similar examples, and these are not exactly parallel : * We'll drink 
a measure the table round.' — Macb. Ill, iv, 11 ; 'The sum of this . . . Y-ravished 
the regions round.' — Per, III, Pro. 35 (which may not be Shakespeare's) ; and 
• She throws her eyes about the paintings round.' — Lucrece^ 1499* The printers of 
the Ff changed * chamber' to chambers ; this Capell further changed to chamber'' s, 
which, he remarks with complacency, * is in truth a correction ; it has been hitherto 
an accusative plural, which ruins poetry.' — Ed. 

35. brine ... to season] Whiter (p. 141) : When a phrase has once become 
familiar to oar thoughts, we insensibly forget that the tenns, which compose it, are 


1 8 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. i. 

A brothers dead loue, which (he would keepe frefh 36 

And lading, in her fad remembrance. 

Du. O (he that hath a heart of that fine frame 
To pay this debt of loue but to a brother, 
How will (he l,oue, when the rich golden (haft 40 

36. brothers dead'\ dead brother's Pope^Han. rememberanceQK^.(tmXA)f 
Daniel. Ktly. 

37. lofting^'] lofting F^ ct seq. 38. that fine'\ this fine F^F^, Rowe i. 
remembrance'\ remembrance still 

appropriate and peculiar. Shakespeare is frequent in the metaphorical application 
of the word season, * Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine.* — Lucrece^ 
796 ; * tears . . . the best brine a maiden can season her praise in.* — Alls Well, I, i, 
55 ; 'Is not birth, beauty, good shape ... the spice and salt that season a man.' — 
Tro. 6f* Cress. I, ii, 275 ; * What a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for 
Rosaline I How much salt water thrown away in waste To season love.* — /^om, &* 
Jul. II, iii, 69 ; * the wide sea Hath . . . salt too little, which may season give To 
her foul tainted flesh.* — Much Ado, IV, i, 148. In the present passage we have 
brine, season, keep fresh. 

36. brothers dead loue] At first sight, Daniel's conjecture : < a dead brothers 
love,* seems almost an emendatio ceriissima, but further reflection will show, I think, 
that it is needless, if not injurious. The love which Olivia wished to season and keep 
fresh in her remembrance was not her love for her brother, < this debt of love,* as 
Orsino calls it, she pays by her seclusion till seven years heat, but the love which 
her brother bore to her, whereof the manifestations were buried in his grave. It was 
on the memory of this 'dead love* that Olivia wished to dwell, and season with 
eye-offending brine. — Ed. 

37. remembrance] If it gratify any one to pronounce words in an unusual 
fashion, he will find authority in Walker, Vers. 9, and in Abbott, § 477, for pro- 
nouncing this, rcfttemberance. Both here and in Wint. Tale, IV, iv, 88, Capell goes 
so far as to spell it thus in his text. I think such pronunciations should be adopted 
only when, without them, a line sounds intolerably harsh, which cannot be affirmed, 
in the present instance, should ' remembrance * be pronounced as it is spelled. See 
also * G)untrey * in line 23 of the next scene. — Ed. 

38. that . . . that] The presence of two thafs in this line, possibly led the 
printers of the Third Folio to change the second * that * to this, overlooking the fact 
that it is here used for such, and followed by * To * in the next line. See, if need 
be, Abbott, § 277. — Ed. 

40. golden shaft] Douce (i, 84) says that this 'golden shaft* might have been 
supplied from a description of Cupid in Sidney's Arcadia^ Book ii. It is hardly 
likely. The only reference there to Cupid's arrows is : • Thus painters Cupid paint, 
thus poets do A naked God, blind, young with arrowes two . . . But arrowes two, 
and tipt with gold or lead.*— p. 155, ed. 1598. There is no mention of the different 
offices of the two arrows. Douce further observes that the source might also have 
been Ovid's Metamorphoses, Golding*s translation. This is more likely. The passage 
in Golding is found in The first booke (misprinted * Second booke' in running title) 
fol. 8 verso, 1567, as follows : * There from hys quiuer full of shafts two arrowes did 
he take Of sundrie workes : tone causeth Loue, the tother doth it slake. That causeth i.] OK, WHAT YOU WILL 19 

Hath kilPd the flocke of all afTedlions elfe 41 

That Hue in her. When Liuer, Braine, and Heart, 

Thefe foueraigne thrones, are all fupply'd and fiUM 

Her fweete perfeftions with one felfe king : 44 

43. 7)1^^] 7'>4rr^ Warb. Han. Johns. Warb. ///V, (Her sweet ^fiction) 

Those Knt, Wh. i. Cap. Sta. Rife. JtlPd Of her sweet per- 

throneSf"] thrones F^. fections Ktly. filPd, Her sweet perfec- 

43> 44* ^^^ ... perfe^ions'] her sweet tions^ Pope et cet. (subs.) 

perfections. Are all supplied and filV d 44. felfe hing] selfe fame king F^. 

Coll. conj. Huds. self same king F . selfsame king F^, 

43» 44- filled Her fweete perfeMnu\ Rowe, + , Cap. self king Mai. Ktly. 
Ff, Rowe. fill' d,(0 sweet perfection I) 

loae, is all of golde with point full sharpe and bright, That chaseth loue is blunt, 
whose Steele with leaden head is dight.' Green (p. 400), on the other hand, says 
that the epithet * golden * in the present passage might have been used, < equally 
well, and with as much probability, through the influence of Alciat, or adopted from 
Whitney's very beautiful translation and paraphrase of Joachim Bellay's Fable of 
Cupid and Death [1581] : the two were lodging together at an inn, and uninten- 
tionally exchanged quivers ; Death's darts were made of bone, Cupid's were 'dartes 
of goulde.' See Mid. N. D. I, i, 180 : * I sweare to thee, by Cupids strongest bow. 
By his best arrow with the golden head.' — Douce adds : Milton seems to have for- 
gotten that Love had only one shaft of gold. See Par. Lost^ iv, 763 : * Here Love 
his golden shafts employs, here lights His constant lamp,' etc. [Dr Skeat has 
kindly called my attention to The Romaunt of the Rose, where, as to the number of 
arrows, William de Lorris evidently had ' later information ' than Ovid. In Chaucer's 
translation (line 939 et seq. ed. Skeat) we find that Cupid had five ' arowes,' ' Of 
which five in his right bond were . . . with gold bigoon,' and although these were 
for five different purposes, and not solely to inspire love, as was Ovid's single arrow, 
yet Milton is justified in that there were more than one. ' Shakespeare certainly 
had a copy of Chaucer's Works,* says Dr Skeat, 'probably the edition of 1561.' 

4 1 . flocke of all afifedtions] See ' flocke of vnspeakable vertues,' in the extract 
from Sidney's Arcadia, quoted by Steevens, in the note on line 8, above. R. G. 
White : * Flock ' is used here merely as a collective noun. 

43, 44. These . . . perfecflions] A much-belaboured passage, wherein War- 
burton, whose influence has extended even to our day, gave the first distortion 
by enclosing < Her sweet perfections ' in a parenthesis ; to be sure, he changed it to 
' O sweet perfection,' which no editor followed, but his parenthesis remained, and 
even the conservative Capell adopted his * perfection ' in the singular, and thus 
remarks (p. 141) : 'That man is woman's perfection, her completion, is a doctrine 
as old as Adam ; and nearly of that age is the opinion that *' brain, heart, and liver" 
are the seats of human affection ; it's ** thrones " properly, from the dominion it [t. e. 
affection] exercises; that which has it's seat in the brain, t. e. rises from judgement, 
being first in degree ; but when all are ** fiird-(says this passage) with one self-same 
king," when love in every stage of it centers in one man, then is love in full sover- 
eignty and woman in her perfection.' Albeit this interpretation smacks not a little 
of arrogance on the Duke's part, intimating, as it does, that Olivia needs him as a 
husband to make her perfect, yet it is better than the later construction which makes 

20 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc, i. 

[43, 44. These soueraigne thrones, . . . her sweete perfections.] 

(he ' sweet perfections ' refer to * liver, brain, heart,' which are already sufficiently 
qualified as * sovereign thrones.' It was Heath (p. 186) who set forth this later con- 
struction, as follows: 'The "sweet perfections" are her affections, her judgement, 
and her sentiments, sufficiently denoted by the preceding mention of liver, brain, 
and heart, the several seats where they are vulgarly and poetically supposed to have 
their respective residence.' Steevens followed Heath, but evidently with reluctance. 
After stating that the ' liver, brain, and heart, are admitted in poetry as the residence 
of the passions f judgement^ and sentimentSy he adds, * These are what Shakespeare 
calls ** her sweet perfections," though he has not very clearly expressed what he 
might design to have said.' Knight dissents from Steevens whose interpretation he 
calls mistaken and recurs to Capell. ' The phrase ought, probably,' he says, ' to be 
**her sweet perfection,'''' The filling of the "sovereign thrones" with "one self 
king " is the perfection of Olivia's merits, — according to the ancient doctrine that a 
woman was not complete till her union with a *' self king." In Lord Bemers' trans- 
lation of Froissart there is a sentence which glances at the same opinion. The rich 
Berthault of Malines is desirous to marry his daughter to the noble Earl of Guerles ; 
and he thus communes with himself: " Howbeit, I will answer these messengers that 
their coming pleaseth me greatly, and that my daughter should be happy if she 
might come to so great a perfection as to be conjoined in marriage with the Earl of 
Guerles." ' Collier proposed a change in the order of the lines, in the belief that 
* the passage would run better for the sense and equally well for the verse, if we were 
to read, " when liver, brain, and heart. These sovereign thrones, her sweet perfec- 
tions. Are all supplied and fill'd," etc' This conjecture Hudson adopted (by a slip, 
he attributes it to Capell) with the remark that, < sense, logic, grammar, and prosody, 
all, I think, plead together for the transposition.' R. G. White quotes j Hen, VI: 
III, ii, 86, for the use of ' perfections ' in the sense it has here : 'All her perfections 
challenge sovereignty.' Staunton says that the plural, 'perfections' is *a slight 
but unfortunate misprint which totally destroys the meaning of the poet.' He there- 
fore follows Capell in his text, but in his note says that the passage should be read 
" — all supplied and fiU'd With one self king, — ^her sweet perfection." The " sweet 
perfection" not being as Steevens conjectured, her liver ^ brain, and heart, but her 
husband, her "one self (or single) king." According to the doctrine of Shake- 
speare's time,* Staunton continues, in effect following Knight, * a female was imper- 
fect, her nature undeveloped, until by marriage she was incorporated with the other 
sex. " — and as one glorious flame. Meeting another, grows the same:" The 
writers of the period abound in allusions to this belief: " Marriage their object is ; 
their ^^n'lf^then. And now Perfection, they receive from Men."— -Overbury's Wife. 
See also Donne's Epithalamium made at Lincoln* s Inn, in which this, the predomi- 
nating idea on such occasions, is made the burden of every stanza : " To-day put on 
perfection, and a woman's name." ' Deighton gives a better illustration than 
either of those of Staunton: «I have read Aristotle's Problems, which saith that 
woman receiveth perfection by the man.'— Marston, Antonio and Mellida, III, ii, 
12, Part 2. To Staunton's interpretation of • perfection* by husband Dyce objects 
that 'surely *^ sweet** is opposed' to it. But Deighton says that this objection falls 
to the ground if the * one self-king* be 'explained as " Love" (not as a husband), 
which having overcome all rivals, now reigns alone.* Rolfe thinks that possibly 
Capell* s ' perfection ' is the better reading, making it refer to the preceding sentence. 
— W. A. Wright: The order of the words ['fill'd Her sweet perfections'] is 

ACTi, sc. ii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 21 

Away before me, to fweet beds of Flowres, 45 

Loue-thoughts lye rich, when canopy'd with bowres. 


Scena Secunda. 

Enter Viola ^ a Captmne^and Saylors. 2 

Vio. What Country (Friends) is this ? 

Cap. This is Illyria Ladie. 4 

46. Loue'thoughts\ Love thoughts F^, The Street. Rowe. The sea-coast 

Rowe. Cap. 

lye\ lie F3. lies F^. 3. Cmintry] Countrey F^F^. 

lHnores'\ bowers F^. 4. This m] Om. Pope, + , Steev. 

I. Scena] Scaena F,. Huds. 

Illyfia'l Illyria, Y^^, 

inverted, but the sense is dear. [I cannot but believe that there would have been 
very little difficulty here had the simple punctuation of the Folio been observed, with 
possibly a comma after ' supplied/ although it is not absolutely needed. We should 
then have seen, I think, that the liver, brain, and heart, sovereign though they be,, 
do not include all of Olivia's capacity of loving ; these thrones are lodged in us all ; 
but in addition, since *■ fancy, is full of shapes ' Olivia has many another sweet per- 
fection (such as her devotion to a brother's dead love) which needs but to be fill' d 
by an object in order to show the power in her of a master-passion. — Ed.] 

43. These] Warburton : We should read Three, This is exactly in the 
manner of Shakespeare. [The change is perfectly hannless, and perfectly super- 
fluous. — Ed.] 

44. perfections] A quadrisyllable. Abbott, § 479 ; Tion, when preceded by r, 
is more frequently prolonged, perhaps because the c more readily attracts the / to 
itself, and leaves ion uninfluenced by the /. [Several examples follow. See I, v, 

44. one selfe] Knight doubts that this means self- same and believes * that the 

poet means king of herself It makes really but little difference what meaning is 
attached to ' self ' as long as the idea of one sole king is retained and that king. 
Love ; but see Abbott, § 20, for many examples, and more could be added, of the 
use of 'self as an adjective, in accordance with its old meaning of same. Hunter 
(i, 400) thinks that the last few lines of this passage can hardly have been written as 
they have come down to us. Keightley reads ' Of her sweet perfections with one 
sdf-king,' and says, < We might also transpose, but, I think, with a loss of force/ 
Of what innumerable passages might not this be said ! — Ed. 

4. This is] Pope omitted these words ; probably, as injurious to the metre ; 
Dycs, too, queries whether they be not an interpolation. I suppose they make 
the Captain's reply a little less abrupt. As regards metre, if * Illyria' be a quadri- 
fyllable, as it is in the next line, lines 3 and 4, read as one line, make fourteen syl- 
lables ; omitting ' This is ' they make twelve, — still too long a line, with a touch of 


22 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. ii. 

Vio. And what fhould I do in Illyria? 5 

My brother he is in Elizium, 
Perchance he is not drown'd : What thinke you faylors ? 

Cap. It is perchance that you your felfe were faued. 

Vio.O my poore brother, and fo perchance may he be. 

Cap. True Madam, and to comfort you with chance, 10 

6. Eli2ium\ Eliziam F^F^. Elysium 7. you faylors] you, failors F^F^. 
Pope. • 9. and fo] so Pope, + . 

7. he w] h€S is Fj. lo. chanccy] chance, F,Fj. 

surliness imparted to the honest Captain to no purpose. Nor do we treat him much 
better if we make him say lUyr-yah, If we consider line 4 as a separate line, it 
will have only eight syllables — a line which Sidney Walker says is unknown to 
Shakespeare. Thus encircled by a lurid horizon, with no chance of escape, our only 
course is to imitate the scorpion, retire to the centre and die. The truth is, I think, 
that, in a dialogue, where fragments of lines are in themselves rhythmical, it is folly 
to attempt to cut them up into orthodox iambic pentameters which can never be 
appreciated on the stage. — Ed. 

4. lUyria] Godwin {^The Architect , 24 April, 1875): Al though the ac tion of 
this play is directed or described as taking place in? city of Illyria, there are but 
few words in the text which give anyihmg iike a Lraimafaan complexion. If we 


accept Illyria, we iiav6 il dly ui seapuil uf the Venetian Republic under the local 
government of a duke , or, more correctly, a coun t, this last being the title given him 
by the law officer who arrests Antonio. Two passages,— one referring to this arrest, 
the other to the Count's galleys and a sea-figh t in which they were engaged, — are 
almost the only things, apart from the proper names, which could interfere with the 
action if we preferred to remove it to England ; for the spirit of this play, as compared 
with the other Italian plays, is t horoug hl y En glish. Although, however, the contrast 
between the Earl of Southampton and a boozing English knight might be really as 
great as that between the polished Italian noble and Sir Toby Belch, yet the apparent 
contrast is no doubt greater in the latter by virtue of the difference of nationality. 

5, 6. Illyria . . . Elizium] Douce : There is seemingly a play upon these words. 
[I do riot forget what Dr Johnson says of ' the malignant power ' which a quibble 
had over the mind of Shakespeare, to whom it was ' the fatal Cleopatra for which he 
lost the world and was content to lose it ' ; I recall that he could make dying men 
play nicely with their names ; and yet with all this in mind, I find it impossible to 
believe that a quibble was intended in tlie present passage, or, if a quibble be inev- 
itable, that there was any intention of thereby raising a smile. A play on words 
here, when Viola was almost heart-broken, would be not only unbefitting the occa- 
sion, but, what is more vital, utterly out of keeping with Viola's character. — Ed.] 

8. Cap.] Karl Elze (p. 174) thinks that this speech should be given to one of 
the sailors, to whom Viola has addressed her question. However generally Viola's 
question may have been addressed to the group of sailors, it was the Captain's duty 
to be the spokesman, not only here, but when Viola addressed the group as ' friends,' 
in the first line. — Ed. 

8. perchance] The Captain echoes Viola's word, but by using it as a predicate 
^ves it its literal meaning, by chance. 

ACT I, sc. ii.] OR, WHA T YOU WILL 23 

Affure your felfe, after our ftiip did fplit, 1 1 

When you, and thofe poore number faued with you, 

Hung on our driuing boate : I faw your brother 

Mod prouident in perill, binde himfelfe, 

(Courage and hope both teaching him the pradlife) 15 

To a fttong Made, that liuM vpon the fea : 

Where like Orion on the Dolphines backe, 

I faw him hold acquaintance with the waues, 

So long as I could fee. 19 

1 1 . felfe^'\ /elf F^. cet (generally. ) 

12. thofe] that Rowe ii, + , Var. Stecv. 13. our] your Rowe. 
Var. this Cap. Mai. Dyce ii, iii, Huds. driuing] droving F^F^. 
the Anon. ap. Cam. boiite .*] boat. Cap. 

thofe, ..faued] those— poor num- 14. Mq^] MoffY^. 

ber ! — saved Eire. 16. fitong] F,. 

faued] Ff, Rowe, Var. * 2 1, Coll. 17. Orion] Arion Pope et seq. 

Hal. Wh. Glo. Rife, sai/d Pope et 18. faw] see Pope ii. 

12. those poore number] If the text is to be tampered with at all, I think 
Capell's this is better than Rowe's that^ inasmuch as the former suggests a motion 
of the hand toward the small group of sailors standing near. In recent days, it is 
generally supposed that Shakespeare considered 'number' as a plural, and that 
'those poor number ' corresponds to ' those poor people.' In the present instance, 
however, I think W. A. Wright gives an explanation which I cannot but regard 
with favour inasmuch as it occurred to me independently. * Shakespeare,' he says, 
*may have written *<poor numbers" and the final s disappeared before the initial s 
of the next word.' At the same time it is probable that ' those poor number ' can be 
classed with < these set kind of fools,' in I, v, 86. — Ed. 

12. saued] R. G. White condemns the contraction scn^d introduced by Pope, 
and continued by the majority of editors, on the ground that the accent is thereby 
wrongly thrown on *you' instead of on ' with.' Pope's intention was to make a 
line of ten syllables. 

13. driuing] Murray {N. E. D.) : Drivingy participial adjective. 2. Moving 
along rapidly, especially before the wind ; drifting. [The present line quoted.] 

16. liu'd] W. A. Wright : To * live ' is still used by sailors in tliis sense. 
Admiral Smyth in his Sailor's Wordbook gives, 'To Live. To be able to with- 
stand the fury of the elements ; said of a boat or ship, etc' Compare Ralegh, Dis- 
covery of Guiana (Hakluyt Soc. ), p. 106 : * we . . . brought the Galley as neere as 
we could, but she had as much a doe to Hue as could be.' 

17. Orion] See Text. Notes for Pope's correction. It is hardly necessary to relate 
to modem readers a story which was familiar to an audience in Queen Elixabeth's 
time. — W. A. Wright : Shakespeare may have read at school * Orpheus in silvis, 
inter delphinas Arion ' (Virgil, Eel. viii, 56), but the story was so familiar that it is 
not necessary to suppose even this. Halliwell quotes a note of Grey (i, 224), 
wherein a passage is given from Shirley's Imposture (V, i), in which the story of Arion 
is turned into ridicule. It has no possible bearing on the present line, — nor on any 
line where Arion is ever mentioned. It is merely an example of Shirley's ponderous 
attempt to be funny. — Ed. 

24 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. ii. 

Uio. For faying fo, there's Gold : 20 

Mine owne efcape vnfoldeth to my hope, 
Whereto thy fpeech ferues for authoritie 
The like of him. Know'ft thou this Countrey f 

Cap' I Madam well^ for I was bred and borne 
Not three houres trauaile from this very place. 25 

Vio. Who gouemes heere? 

20. For „. Gold:^ Therms gold for 23. KnoufJT^ And Jknowest Hnn, 

saying so. Pope, Han. 25. //ar^.*] pUue? F^Fj. place F^.. 

22. atUkorUu\ authority ^ Rowe. place, Rowe. 

23. of him] Abbott (§ 174), with this present phrase as an example, remarks. 
that *Cy passes easily from meaning **as regards" to "concerning,*' "about."' 
Is it not rather the Greek construction where ' of him ' would be explained as in 
apposition with the genitive implied in the possessive pronoun, 'mine own,' — the 
escape of myself unfoldeth the escape of him ? — Ed. 

23. Countrey] See for the pronunciation *■ remembrance,' line 37 of preceding 
scene. Small as the necessity seems to me to be to pronounce ' remembrance ' as a 
quadrisyllable, the necessity here is even smaller to pronounce ' countrey ' as a tri- 
syllable : 'count^ry,' as ABBOTT (§ 477) and several modem editors assert that it is 
pronounced. The line is broken. No actress would be tolerated who should so 
hurriedly utter it as to indicate that the pronunciation countery can alone make it 
rhythmical. Viola is trying to master her emotion, and the pause is long between 
the thoughts of her brother and her inquiries about the country. In this pause, all 
memory of the preceding rhythm is lost, so much so that were it retained, and the 
accent thrown on ' thou,' it would be wrong ; it would imply that Viola cared only 
for the Captain's own personal knowledge, and nothing for information from any one 
else. The stress must fall on 'Know'st'; < country' will then remain a land to- 
be found in Geographies. — Ed. 

24. bred and borne] W. A. Wright : It is remarkable that no one has proposed 
to read * bom and bred,' in order to preserve the true sequence of events. [Probably, 
the cause may be found in the fact that Shakespeare uses ' bred ' in the sense of 
begotten (see many examples in Schmidt's Lex.). At the same time it is possible 
that the phrase before us was mere carelessness on Shakespeare's part ; it is curiously 
parallel to one of the examples given by Puttenham of what he calls The Preposterous : 
* Ye haue another manner of disordered speach, when ye misplace your words or 
clauses and set that before which should be behind, et i conuerso, we call it in Eng- 
lish prouerbe, the cart before the horse, the Greeks call it Histeron proteron^ we 
name it the Preposterous, and if it be not too much vsed is tollerable inough, and 
many times scarce perceiueable, unlesse the sence be thereby made very absurd. . . . 
One describing his landing vpon a strange coast, sayd thus preposterously, " When 
we had climbde the clifs, and were a shore." Whereas he should haue said by good 
order, " When we were come a shore and clymed had the cliffs." For one must 
be on land ere he can clime. And as another said : " My dame that bred me vp and 
bare me in her wombe." Whereas the bearing is before the bringing vp.' — Arte 
of English Poesie^ 15^9, p. 181, ed. Arber. See also Mack'd and lost' — Muck 
Ado, IV, i, 228.— Ed.] u.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 25 

Cap. A noble Duke in nature^as in name. 27 

Vio. What is his name ? 

27. A,„nature^'\ Closing line 26, 27. as in name,'\ As in Ais name Hah. 

Han. Cap. Var. '03, '13, '21, Coll. Cap. Var. '03, '13, *2i. 

27-37* Iq ^c division of these lines, Knight's text conforms to that of the First 
FoliOy for which Knight thus claims a superiority over the arrangement of Hanmer and 
the Variorum (see Text. Notes) : * We request the reader to look particularly at this 
part of the dialogue, beginning ** Who governs here?" Is it not strictly metrical, 
and do not the three or four short lines that are thrown in render the question and 
answer rapid and spirited ? It is printed exactly as in the original. But the passage 
has been jammed into the Procrustean bed of Steevens.' Knight is wise in submit- 
ting the question to < the reader,' who is ' to look ' at the passage. Such arrange- 
ments or division of lines are solely for < readers ' and for eyes, not for ears or for the 
stage. — Ed. 

27. Duke] Walker {Crit. ii, 2S0) has an instructive Article on the Confusion 
in sense of king, duke, and count: In Lov^s Lab, L. II, i, 37, 'Who are the 
votaries, my loving lords, That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke ^ Every- 
where else, I believe, he is styled by his proper title, king. So in Twelfth N. [in 
the present passage] Orsino is called duke, but in several, — ^perhaps in all,— other 
places, count. [Throughout the rest of the play, it is uniformly *■ count,' but the 
prefixes of his speeches remain, as in the first scene, Duke. — Ed.] In the Two- 
Gent., the personage who, throughout the rest of the play, is styled the duke of 
Milan, is in I, iii, 28, the emperor, — * his companion, youthful Valentine, Attends 
the emperor in his royal court :' [line 38 : — ] ' I will dispatch him to tlie emperor's 
court': and II, iii, 5, — *■ I am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court': for it 
is futile to attempt to distinguish between the two personages. [Lettsom, Walker's 
Editor, has here tlte following footnote : ' The emperor is peculiar to the scenes laid 
at Verona, the duke to those laid at Milan. Verona occurs twice and Padua once 
for Milan. These negligences I suspect to be the author's.'] In III, i, 163, the 
duke says, — ' But if thou linger in my territories Longer than swiftest expedition 
Will give thee time to leave our royal court' Tit. And, III, i, 154, * chop off your 
hand. And send it to the king,^ in IV, iv, 81, 'King, be thy thoughts imperious, 
like thy name.' Here, however, the error was easy ; in the latter instance, hardly 
an error. By the way. III, i, 160, 'With all my heart, I'll send the emperor my 
hand': qu., — 'I'll send the >ti«^ my hand.' Emperor occurs three times l)efore. 
Hamlet, III, ii, dumb show, — 'Enter a King and a Queen^ etc. Ih,, 'Gonzago is 
the duk^s name ' ; — Hamlet is here speaking ; and in the very same speech follows 
almost immediately, — ' This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king,^ Instances of 
the same in contemporary dramatists, and others : Beaumont and Fletcher, Cupid^s 
Jievenge, III, ii, speaking of Duke Leontius and his consort, ' the duke and queen 
will presently come forth to you.' In I, i, Leucippus, the heir to the dukedom of 
Lyda, says, ' I do not wish to know that fatal hour, That is to make me king.* In 
the latter part of Sidney's Arcadia, Basil ius is called sometimes king and sometimes 
dukf. King, count, and duke were one and the same to the poet, all involving alike 
the idea of sovereign power ; and thus might be easily confounded with each other 
in the memory. [This note of Walker silences, I think, Fleay's argument, (founded 
in part on this confusion of titles, ) in favour of a twofold date of composition of the; 
present play. — Ed.] 

26 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. ii. 

Cap. Orfino. 

Vio, Orfino : I haue heard my father name him. 30 

He was a Batchellor then. 

Cap. And fo is now, or was fo very late : 
For but a month ago I went from hence, 
And then 'twas frefh in murmure (as you know 
What great ones do, the leffe will prattle of,) 35 

That he did feeke the loue of faire Oliuia. 

Vio. What's (hee ? 

Cap. A vertuous maid, the daughter of a Count 
That dide fome tweluemonth fmce, then leauing her 
In the prote6Hon of his fonne, her brother, 40 

Who ftiortly alfo dide : for whofe deere loue 

30. Orfmo.] Orfino! Ff. 39. dide] dVd Ff. 

31-37. He was ...Jheef] Six lines, tweluemonth'] twelve months 

ending naWf. .. fnonth, .. fresh, ,,do,... seek Rowe, + . 
...she? Steev. Hal. 41. loue] loss Walker, Dyce ii, iii, 

34. murmure] murmur F^. Huds. 
know] knoWf Thcob. 

29. Orsino] Johnson : I know not whether the nobility of the name is comprised 
in duke^ or in Orsino, which is, I think, the name of a great Italian family. — 
Hunter (i, 401) : It is plain that Shakespeare was acquainted with the antiquity of 
the Orsini family, which had recently been illustrated in a large work, devoted to the 
subject, by Sansovino. [See Dramatis Persona^ note on line 2.] 

30, 31. The Cowden-Clarkes : Here is one of Shakespeare's subtle touches in 
dramatic art. By the mention of Viola's father having spoken of the duke, we are 
led to see the source of her interest in Orsino ; and by the word * bachelor ' we are 
made to see the peculiar nature of that interest. By the delicate indication of an 
already existing inclination on the port of the heroine for the hero of the play, the 
circumstance of her at once falling so deeply in love with him, on coming to know 
him personally, is most naturally and beautifully introduced. [But see Spedding's 
finer interpretation in note on line 59. — Ed.] 

32. late] For this adverbial use, see III, i, 38 ; V, i, 228. 

34. murmure] Deighton : The idea in < murmur ' is of their speaking with 
bated breath of a matter so much above their personal concern. 

35* iBT^A^ ones . . . the lease] It is by the evident reference to rank in this 
passage that we infer the same reference, and not to that of numbers, in the phrase 
* more and less' in Macb. V, iv, I2, and elsewhere. See, if need be, Abbott, § 17. 

37. What'a ahee?] See also I, v, 115: «What is he at the gate, Cosin ?'— 
Abbott (§ 254) : In the Elizabethan and earlier periods, when the distinction 
between ranks was much more marked than now, it may have seemed natural to 
ask, as the first question about anyone, * of what condition or rank is he ?' In that 
case the difference is one of thought, not of grammar. [It is a relief to find lines 
so stubbornly refractory to all rules of rhythm that they are allowed, perforce, to 
remain unmolested and are dubbed Mnterjectional.' See Abbott, § 512. — ^Ed.] 

41. deere loue] Walker {^Crit. i, 285): Read 'dear losse.'' Dyce (ed. ii) 

ACT I, sc. u.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 27 

(They fay) (he hath abiur'd the fight 42 

And company of men. 

Vio. O that I feru'd that Lady, 
And might not be deliuered to the world 45 

42, 43. the fight And company^ ¥(, 45. delUured^ Ff, Var. '03, '13, '21, 

Rowc, + , Var. '73, '78, Knt, Hal. the Coll. Wh. Cam. Rife, Dtc. deliver* d 

company And sight Han. et cet. Rowe et cet. 

42. httth"] had Ff, Rowe. world'\ worlds Rowe et seq. 

44. O] Cap (corrected in Errata). 

adopted this change, and affirmed that it was ' made certain by other passages of 
Shakespeare,' namely : ' and, portable To make the dear loss, etc., Temp, V. i, 146 ; 
• Were never orphans had so dear a loss,* Rich, III: II, ii, 77 ; * Their dear loss^ 
The more of you 'twas felt,* etc., Cymb. V, v, 345. [If *dear love * were unintel- 
ligible, dear loss would be accepted with gratitude, but inasmuch as * dear love ' is 
almost irreproachable, the use by Shakespeare of dear loss in a hundred passages 
ought not to justify its substitution here. — Ed.] 

42, 43. sight And company] The anticlimax here, coupled with the defective 
metre, led Hanmer to transpose these words ; and he has been therein followed by 
almost every modem editor. But the recollection of * bred and bom ' only a few 
lines distant, and of ' lack'd and lost' in Much Ado might reasonably give us pause. 
The chiefest obstacle in the way of retaining the Folio text is the metre, which Han- 
mer's transposition certainly cures. Walker, who doubts Hanmer' s change, asks, 
' Is there not something lost in ' line 42 ? — Ed. 

45-47. Johnson : This is : I wish I might not be made public to the world, with 
regard to the stcUe of my birth and fortune, till I have gained a ripe opportunity for 
my design. Viola seems to have formed a very deep design with very little pre- 
meditation ; she is thrown by shipwreck on an unknown coast, hears that the prince 
is a bachelor, and resolves to supplant the lady whom he courts. — Malone : In the 
novel on which Shakespeare founded this play, the Duke Apolonius being driven by 
a tempest on the isle of Cyprus, Silla, the daughter of the governor, falls in love 
with him, and on his departure goes in pursuit of him. All this Shakespeare knew, 
and probably intended in some future scene to tell, but afterwards forgot it. If this 
were not the case, the impropriety censured by Dr Johnson must be accounted for 
from the poet's having here, as in other places, sometimes adhered to the fable he 
had in view, and sometimes departed from it. Viola, in a subsequent scene, plainly 
alludes to her having been secretly in love with the duke. [See ' My Father luul a 
daughter,' etc., II, iv, 114, etc.] — Boswell : It would have been inconsistent with 
Viola's delicacy to have made an open confession of her love for the Duke to the 
Captain.— R. G. White {Sh*s Scholar^ 282) : Malone's supposition, that Viola's 
beautiful allusion to herself in the story which she tells the Duke of her pretended 
sister, is an allusion to her ' having been secretly in love with him,' that is, of course, 
in love with him before the play opens, — is too absurd to merit notice. Indeed, 
indeed, the best part of Shakespeare was written in an unknown tongue to these 
learned gentlemen. If there ever were an ingenuous, unsophisticated, unselfish 
character portrayed, it is this very Viola, — Dr Johnson's 'excellent schemer,' who, 
wretched and in want, forms that ' very deep design ' of supplanting a high-bora 
beauty, of whom she has never heard, in the affections of a man of princely rank, 
whom she has never seen. [Johnson's paraphrase of these lines would have been 

28 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. ii. 

Till I had made mine owne occafion mellow 46 

What my eftate is. 

Cap, That were hard to compafTe, 
Becaufe (he will admit no kinde of fuite^ 
No, not the Dukes. 50 

Vio. There is a faire behauiour in thee Captaine, 
And though that nature, with a beauteous wall 
Doth oft clo fe in pollution : yet of thee 
I will beleeue thou haft a minde that fuites 54 

46. melloTv] Ff, Rowc, + , Wh. Ktiy. Cam. show Gom\± 
mellowy Han. ct cet. fellow Anon. ap. 53. clo/e in\ close-in Dyce ii, iii. 

fair enough had not his judgement been distorted by his assumption that Viola was 
a * schemer/ therefore it is that he paraphrased ' made mine own occasion mellow ' by 
' a ripe opportunity for my design.* The occasion to be mellowed was not a design 
upon the Duke, but a proper time for revealing her birth and estate. Attention has 
been called to the recurrence of the same phrase in Lov^s Lab, Z. IV, ii, 72 : 
' These are begot in the ventricle of memory . . . and delivered upon the mellowing 
of occasion,' or, in other words, delivered when the time was exactly ripe ; just as 
Antonio tells Bassanio to ' stay the very riping of the time * at Belmont. — Mer, of 
Ven. II, viii, 43. Thus here, Viola has no intention of remaining always a page, 
but only until in her own judgement the time was ripe for disclosing her true station. 
Abbott (§ 290), in a list of verbs formed from nouns and adjectives, gives * mellow/ 
in the present passage, as a transitive verb, which, unless it means that its object 
is the phrase 'What my estate is,' I do not understand. It appears to me that 
* mellow ' is no verb but a simple predicate adjective ; and the construction of * What 
my estate is' (that is, as to what my estate is) is the same as in Hamlet^ I, i, 33 
(pointed out by W. A. Wright) : *And let us once again assail your ears. That are 
so fortified against our story. What we two nights have seen.' Again I must refer 
to Spedding's excellent vindication of Viola's character ; line 59, below. — Ed.] 

45. And might] Hanmer reads 'And U might,' which is good. Possibly, it is 
unnecessary to insert the '// it may be faintly but sufficiently heard in the final d of 
•And.'— Ed. 

45. deliuered] R. G. White (ed. i) objects to the contracted form deliver' d, whereby 
' the variety of a rhythm, often introduced by Shakespeare in the third foot, is lost.' 

52. though that] See • If that,' I, v, 308 ; * Least that,' III, iv, 349 ; « If that,' 
V, i, 387 ; ' When that,' V, i, 409; and for additional examples, where ' that' is a 
conjunctional affix, see, if needful, Abbott, § 287. 

52, 53. nature . . . pollution] W. A. Wright : The same sentiment occurs 
again in III, iv, 370, 371. [Compare, also. Sonnets 93 and 95.] 

54. will] Walker (Crit, iii, 83) : IVellj I imagine. [Walker calls attention to 
what he considers the same misprint, in the Folio, of * will ' for welly twice in Mer, 
IViveSy I, iii, 56 : * He hath studied her will, and translated her will,' etc. In a 
note on this passage Dyce adds : ' Since what I tw*// intend,' etc., Lear I, i, 224 ; 
and < If but as will I other accents borrow,' lb. I, iv, i. As to the passage from 
the Mer, tVives, editors are by no means agreed that * will ' is a misprint ; and as to 
the present passage. Walker's change, good as it is, seems to have commended itself 
to no one but Hudson. — Ed.] 

ACT I. sc. ii.] OR, WHA T YOU WILL 29 

With this thy faire and outward charra6ter. 55 

I prethee (and He pay thee bounteoufly) 

Conceale me what I am, and be my ayde, 

For fuch difguife as haply (hall become 

The forme of my intent. He ferue this Duke, 59 

57. ayde,'\ aide, F^F^. 

57. Conceale me what I am] See, also, « I see you what you are,' I, t, 247. 
In Walker's Article VI. {Crit, i, 68) many examples are given of a construction 
similar to this, such as : * I know you what you are,* — Lear, I, i, 268 ; * I will pro- 
claim myself what I am.'— ^^rr. Wives, III, v, 146, etc.— Abbott (§ 414) : Instead 
of saying * I know what you are,' in which the object of the verb * I know ' is the 
clause * what you are,' Shakespeare frequently introduces before the dependent clause 
another object, so as to make the dependent clause a mere explanation of the object. 

59. He . . . Duke] Johnson : Viola is an excellent schemer, never at a loss ; 
if she cannot serve the lady, she will serve the duke. — Hallam (iii, 561 ) : Viola 
would be more interesting, if she had not indelicately, as well as unfairly towards 
Olivia, determined to win the Duke's heart before she had seen him. — Spedding 
{Fraser's Maga. Aug. 1865) : To us the words convey no such meaning, but imply 
rather the very contrary. And the question is worth examining ; for our conception 
of Viola's very nature, and with it the spirit of every scene in which she subse- 
quently appears, and the complexion of the whole play, depends on the answer. 
How then stands the case ? Viola has just escaped from shipwreck, having lost her 
twin brother, — her only natural protector, — and everything else except her purse 
with a little money in it. A beautiful, high-bred girl, alone in a strange country, — 
what is she to do ? Where is she to lodge ? How to procure food ? The captain 
and the sailors are kind and respectful, but they are poor men, and have been 
wrecked as well as she. But she has sense and courage and character and accom- 
plishments, and addresses herself at once to meet the difficulty. For a lady of her 
birth and breeding, the court was the natural place to look to for shelter and sym- 
pathy ; and she asks who is governor. Duke Orsino. Orsino ! She remembered 
the name ; she had heard her father speak of him. But ' he was a bachelor then,' 
she adds ; thinking no doubt that if he were still a bachelor there would be no 
female court ; therefore no fit place for her. Hearing that he was not married, but 
going to be, her next most natural resource would be the lady he was going to marry, 
— a lady, it seemed, well suited to her case ; for she also was an orphan maid, mourn- 
ing the recent loss of an only brother ; and it was only on learning that there was no 
chance of obtaining access to her, that she resolved to disguise her sex and seek service 
at the court in the character of a page. This would provide for her immediate 
necessity ; and for her next step she would wait till she saw her way. There is not the 
shadow of a reason for supposing that in wishing to serve either Olivia or the Duke 
she had any other motive or design ; the suggestion of which is the more unjustifiable 
and unaccountable, because in all her subsequent intercourse between them (though 
she had ihen come to have a very deep and painful interest of her own in the matter) 
she shows herself as fair and loyal, as unselfish, as tenderly considerate towards both, 
as it is possible for a woman to be. Three days of confidential conununication in so 
tender an argument as unrequited love had kindled indeed in her own breast a love 
which could not hope and did not ask for requital. But where are the traces of 

30 TWELFE NIGHT [acti. sc. ii. 

Thou (halt prefent me as an Eunuch to him, 60 

It may be worth thy paines : for I can frng. 

And fpeake to him in many forts of Muficke, 

That will allow me very worth his feruice. 

What elfe may hap, to time I will commit, 

Onely fhape thou thy filence to my wit. 65 

Cap. Be you his Eunuch, and your Mute He bee, 
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not fee. 

Uio. I thanke thee : Lead me on. Exeunt 68 

design, or intrigue, or endeavour to use opportunities for her own advantage ? Out 
of the experience of her own sad and hopeless passion she borrows imagery and 
eloquence to set forth her master's; and the sincerity with which she does it is 
proved by the effect. . . . What she had to do she did with perfect loyalty and 
good faith ; her own love, — though restlessly struggling to utter itself, — remaining to 
the last her own sad secret. 

60. Eunuch] Malone : The first regular opera, as Dr Bumey observes to me, 
was performed at Florence in l6oo: 'Till about 1635, musical dramas were only 
performed occasionally in the palaces of princes, and consequently before that time 
eunuchs could not abound. The first eunuch that was suffered to sing in the Pope's 
chapel, was in the year 1600.' Compare Mid. N. D, V, i, 51 : 'The battell with 
the Centaurs to be sung By an Athenian Eunuch, to the Harpe.' 

62. speake] Deighton : Compare Hamlet, III, ii, 374, * it will discourse most 
eloquent music' 

63. allow] W. A. Wright : That is, approve, cause to be acknowledged. So 
* allowance ' is used in the sense of acknowledgement or approval in Tro. &* Cress. 
II, iii, 146 : *A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant' The 
two senses of * allow,' to assign, and to approve, are due to the different sources from 
which it is derived : the former being from the Low Latin aUocare, the latter from 
allaudare. See IV, ii, 60. 

66. Mute] Schmidt (Lex.y. In Turkey a dumb officer acting as executioner. 
[It is not easy to see the appropriateness of such an officer on the present occa- 
sion. — Ed.] — Deighton: The mention of 'eunuch' brings into the Captain's 
mind the thought of the ' mutes,' dumb attendants in the Turkish harems, and he 
promises to perform her behest as faithfully as the mutes performed those of the 
sultan. [It is not so much fidelity in service that Viola requires, as concealment of 
her disguise. I doubt that the employment of mutes is restricted to the harem. We 
all of us remember our Talisman, — Ed.] 

68. There is, to me, something very touching in this submissive appeal, ' Lead me 
OP,' althoufrh it is not an uncommon phrase. — Ed. 

ACTi,sc. iu.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 3 1 

Sccena Tertia. 

Enter Sir Toby^ and Maria. 2 

Sir To. What a plague meanes my Neece to take the 

death of her brother thus ? I am fure care's an enemie to 

life. 5 

Mar. By my troth fir Tobyy you muft come in earlyer 

a nights : your Cofin, my Lady, takes great exceptions 

to your ill houres. 

To. Why let her except, before excepted. 9 

2. Oliyia's House. Rowe. 7. Cofen\ Neice Rowe ii, + . cousin 
7. a Higkts'\¥(. a-nights 'KoYteiif'^. Cap. et seq. 

1^ nights Cap. et seq. 9. except, before] Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. 

your] youe F,. Cam. Dtn. except be/ore Han. et cet. 

3. a plague] Abbott (§24) : In the expressions 'What a plague?' — / Hen. 
IV: I, U, 51 ; • What a devil V—Ib, IV, ii, 56 ; « A God's name,' Hick. II: II, i, 
25i,^and the like, we must suppose a to mean in, on, or of, [See ' I lore a ballet 
in print, a life,' — IVint. Tale, IV, iv, 288, which is, however, hardly to be placed 
in the same list with the foregoing.] 

4. 5. I am . . . life] Possibly, Sir Toby's anxiety for his niece's life is not 
altogether unselfish. — Ed. 

7. a nights] Ever since Capell's edition, this *a nights' has been changed, 
needlessly, I think, to <f nights. In the eighth division under ^, as a preposition, 
Dr Murray (iV. E. D.) gives: 'Time: in, on, by; as a day, a night, an eve^ a 
morrow, a Monday, a doonCs day. Occasionally prefixed to Old English adverbial 
genitives, giving a nights, now-a-days,* Among the quotations, is given, 'Let me 
haue men about me . . . such as sleepe a nights.' — Jul. Qes, I, ii, 193, where, as 
here, Capell led the change to d nights. For o^ nights, see, if need be, Abbott, 
5 182.— Ed. 

7. Cosin] See note on line 7 of Dramatis Personce, 

9. except, before excepted] Farmer ( Var. '78) : This should probably be ' as 
before excepted.' [This emendation would have been hardly worth the noting here in 
the Commentary, had not Hunter (i, 401) approved of it, and Rann, Singer, and 
Keightley adopted it.] A ludicrous use of the formal law phrase. RiTSON {Rem. 
63) : The ingenious critic might have jspared his remark ; the ' formal law phrase ' 
being more usually as in the text. — M alone : It is the usual language of leases : 
' To have and to hold the said demised premises, etc. with their and every of their 
rights, members, etc. (except before excepted).' — W. A. Wright: Sir Toby's 
drunken repartees are intentionally not much to the point. Bulloch (p. 109) : 
An alteration of punctuation, and the addition of the definite article in an elided 
form will throw all the light necessary for the due understanding the meaning of 
the witty knight : — • let her except — before th' excepted.' Sir Toby wishes to speak 
his mind, but not so as to offend his niece ; he pauses, and then blurts out a cut at the 
position of his interlocutor, a servant ! In conformity with these remarks, the mean- 
ing of his answer will be, — Why let her say so— and to myself. [Had Bulloch's 

32 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. iii. 

Ma. I, but you muft confine your felfe within the lo 

modefl limits of order. 

To. Confine? He confine my felfe no finer then I am : 
thefe cloathes are good enough to drinke in, and fo bee 
thefe boots too : and they be not, let them hang them- 
felues in their owne ftraps. 1$ 

Ma. That quaffing and drinking will vndoe you : I 
heard my Lady talke of it yefterday : and of a foolifh 
knight that you brought in one night here, to be hir woer 

To. Who, Sir Andrew Ague-cheeke ? 

Ma. I he. 20 

To. He's as tall a man as any's in lUyria. 

Ma. What's that to th'purpofe ? 

To. Why he ha's three thoufand ducates a yeare, 23 

10. /...M^] Line spaced to full width 19. Ague-cheeke] Aguecheek Dyce, 
in Ff. Cam. Sta. Rife, Huds. 

14. and'\ Ff, Rowe. i/Popc, Han. 21. anys\ any Pope, Han. 

tf« Theob. et cet. 22. M'] Ff, Rowe, + , Wh. i. the 

18. wo€r'\ wooer, F,. wooer? F^F^, Cap. et cct 
Rowe, Pope. 23. hd'5\ has F^F^. 

emendation been restricted to the Text, Notes, his meaning could not have been 
understood. Hence the sole reason why his explanation is given here in full. — Ed.] 

11. modest] That is, moderate. See IV, ii, 35. 

16. quaffing] W. A. Wright : That is, drinking deep. Palsgrave {^Lesclarcisse* 
nunt de la Langue Francoyse) has ' I quaught, I drinke all ont. le boys dautant* 
Etymologically it is connected with the Scottish quaigh or quaff, a drinking-cup. 

21. tall] In a note on Every Man in his Humour , IV, v, p. 124, GiFFORD 
remarks, * There is scarcely a writer of Jonson's age who does not frequently use 
"tall" in the sense of bold ox courageous* See Wint, Tale, V, ii, 164; also, 
' Jemy, who was, as you have heard, a tall low man,* etc. (f. e, a courageous man 
of low stature). — Armin's Nest of Ninnies, 1608, p. 21, ed. Sh. Soc. Again, * If 
he can kil a man, and dare rob vpon the highway, he is called a tall man, and a 
valiant man of his hands,' etc. — Northbrooke's Treatise against Dicing, Dancings 
etc., about 1577, p. 8, ed. Sh. Soc. — Ed. 

22. th'] After adhering to the Folio in Maria's colloquial ' What's,' is there any 
good reason for deserting it in the equally colloquial * to th' purpose'? — Ed. 

23. three thousand ducates] Karl Elze (p. 157) calls attention to the fact 
that this is also the amount of Shylock's bond ; and, again, the same amount is 
offered as a reward for the discovery of the murderer of Ferdinando in Soliman and 
Perseda, 1 599, Act II, p. 308, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley. [Of course the identity of the 
sums is merely haphazard. Possibly, alliteration may have had some influence in 
the choice of the nimieral. — Ed.] 

23. ducates] Murray {^N. E, D. s. v.) : Used as the name of a silver coin issued 
in 1 140 by Roger II. of Sicily, as Duke of Apulia, bearing the inscription R DX AP, 
i. e. Rogerus Dux Apulia ; according to Falcone de Benevento ' monetam suam intro- 
duxit, unam vero, cui Ducatus nomen imposuit' (Du Cange, s. v.). In 1202, it 

ACT I. sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 33 

Ma. I, but hee'l haue but a yeare in all thefe ducates : 
He's a very foole, and a prodigall. 25 

7<7. Fie, that you'l fay fo : he playes o'th Viol-de-gam- 
boys, and fpeaks three or four languages word for word 
without booke,& hath all the good gifts of nature. 

Ma. He hath indeed, almoft naturall : for befides that 29 

26. o^th'\ Ff. o*/A* Rowe, + , Ran. degambo Theob. ii. Warb. Johns. 
Mai. Wh. i. oUhe Cap. et cct 29. indeed, almo/i'] indeed, — all most 

26, 27. Viol'de-gamboys] Viol-de- Upton, Coll. ii, iii (MS), Dyce ii, iii, 
gambo Rowe, Pope, Theob. i, Han. Huds. 
Cap. Var. Ran. Mai. Steev. Viol- 

appears (Pappadopoli, Moneta di Venetia, 1893, 81) as the name of a Venetian silver 
coin, usually known as the grosso. In 1284, the 6rst gold ducat, also called necckino 
d^oroy was struck at Venice under the doge John Dandolo. This coin, worth about 
91., bears on one side figures of St. Mark and the Doge, and on the other a figure of 
Christ with the legend ' Sit tibi Christe datus quern tu regis iste ducatus ' ; this, 
though it did not originate, may have contributed to spread the name, which was 
subsequently applied to the gold coins of various European countries. — H ALU well 
quotes from Roberts's Marchant^s Mapp of Commerce, 1638, At Venice there were 
' two sorts of duccats, the one currant in payment, which may bee valued ster. about 
35. 4^., and the other of banco, which may be valued about \s. or 4J. 24/., as the 
exchange will admit, the one being twenty per cent, better than the other.' — W. A. 
Wright : Cotgrave says of ' all foraine coynes ... no certaine interpretation can 
be giuen, other than that they hold a rate much about v. or yjj. sterl. the peece.' 
Coryat, who visited Venice in 1608, tells us that the ducat was worth \s. Sd. — Crudi- 
ties, ed. 161 1, pp. 228, 253. [Lastly, RoLFE tells us that * the value of the Venetian 
silver ducat was about that of the American dollar/ Even this assertion is some- 
what vague ; in these times, the * American dollar ' needs the qualification of gold or 
silver. The exchangeable value of money is so fluctuating from age to age that it is 
fairiy impossible to give any precise modern equivalent of any given coin. It ought 
surely to suffice us, at least in reading Shakespeare, to take Shylock's word for it 
that ' three thousand ducats ' is < a good round sum.* — Ed.] 

26, 27. Viol-de-gamboys] Gifford (Every Man out of his Humour, III, iii, 
p. 125) : It appears, fix>m numerous passages in our old plays, that a viol de gambo 
(a bass-viol, as Jonson calls it, in a subsequent passage) was an indispensable piece 
-of furniture in every fashionable house, where it hung up in the best chamber, much 
as the guitar does in Spain, and the violin in Italy, to be played on at will, and to 
fill up the void of conversation. Whoever pretended to fashion, affected an acquaint- 
ance with this instrument. — W. A. Wright : A base- viol, or violoncello. Florio 
{Italian Diet,) has : 'Viola di Gamba, a Violl de Gamba, because men hold it 
betweene or vpon their legges.' 

29. almost] Upton's suggestion of all, most is to me an emendatio eertissima. 
Sir Toby has just said that Sir Andrew ' hath all the good gifts of nature,' * he hath 
indeed,' retorts Maria, * all, most natural,' that is, in effect, all, most like a natural, 
an idiot. Would it accord with the drift of Maria's speech, to represent her, after 
pronouncing, in line 25, Sir Andrew ' a very fool,' as sajring here that he was ' almost 
A fool'? We have a misprint precisely similar, in the Qq and Ff of Mid. N. D, 
IV, i, 47 (of this ed.) : ' Fairies be gone, and be alwaies away ' where every modem 


34 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. Hi. 

he's a foole, he's a great quarreller : and but that hee hath 30 

the gift of a Coward, to allay the guft he hath in quarrel- 
ling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickely 
haue the gift of a graue. 

Tob, By this hand they are fcoundrels and fubftra- 
6lors that fay fo of him. Who are they ? 35 

Ma. They that adde moreour, hee's drunke nightly 
in your company. 

To, With drinking healths to my Neece : He drinke 38 

34» 35- /ub/ira(fiars] subtractors 36. that adde moreour\ addy more- 

Thcob. ii, Warb. Johns. Var. *73, '78, every that Anon. ap. Cam. 
Ran. Knt. 

editor, except White, Collier, and Hudson, has followed Theobald in reading, 
as it should be, ' all ways away.' — Ed. 

31. gust] E. A. Meredith (1863, p. 44) : I venture to propose a slight verbal 
emendation, the substitution, namely, oi gift for 'gust.' Maria is particularising 
Sir Andrew's 'gifts': * For besides that he is a fool, he is a great quarreller.' 
Quarrelling is plainly one of the gifts. But she goes on to say, the gift of quarrel- 
ling is happily qualified by another gift, cowardice. 'And but he hath the gift of 
a coward to allay the gift he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the pru- 
dent he would quickly have the gift of a grave.' The iteration of ' gift ' is perfectly 
Shakespearian. Whereas the introduction of ' gust ' comes in like a discord in a 
passage of music and weakens the point of Maria's rejoinder. [TiESSEN, in 1877, 
made the same emendation, which is undoubtedly plausible, but, apart from the rule 
that where the text makes good sense it must not be molested, there is a difficulty of 
construction; *gift' should be followed by *of'; we have *the gift of a coward,* 
' the gift of a grave,' and we ought to have ' the gift of quarrelling,' but it is the 
'gust in quarrelling'; which proves, I think, that the text should stand. — Ed.] 

33. gift of a graue] Locke Richardson : What Maria means, — speaking in 
the name of ' the prudent ' (provident, — ) is that, at the breakneck speed at which 
this ' prodigal ' is making ducks and drakes of his patrimony, the fool and his money 
will be soon parted, and that, if his quarrelsome temper could only get the start of 
his cowardice, he would quickly come to grief in a duel, and, there being no assets 
for funeral expenses, be buried as a pauper, — at the cost of the parish. He would 
thus literally have ' the^^ of a grave.' Maria's gibe is almost an exact parallel to 
Gratiano's : ' thy wealth being forfeit to the State, Thou hast not left the value of a 
cord ; Therefore thou must be hang'd at the State's charge.' 

34. By this hand] Malvolio also swears by his 'hand,' II, iii, 122 ; — a common 

34, 35. substraAors] Theobald did not show his usual insight if he changed 
this spelling intentionally. Were change needed he might as well have spelled it 
detractors at once, which is evidently what Sir Toby means. But I doubt that Theo- 
bald intended any new reading at all. He calls no attention to it ; it wasi, I think, 
merely a typographical oversight. Subtractors has been erroneously attributed to 
Warburton, who has quite enough to answer for, without having this in addition. 
Both Warburton and Johnson printed from Theobald's Second Edition, wherein 
subtractors is found; they blindly 'followed copy.' — Ed. 

ACT I. sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 35 

to her as long as there is a paflage in my throaty & drinke 

in Illyria : he's a Coward and a Coyftrill that ^ill not 40 

39. there is] there's Pope ii, Thcob. 40. Coyftrill'] Kestrel Han. Onstrel 
Warb. Johns. Var. Mai. Steev. Dyce. 

40. Coystrill] Inasmuch as (according to Dr Murray) Coistrel is an obsolete 
fonn of Kestrel, the elder commentators were thereby misled, and interpreted ' Coys- 
trill * in the present passage as a worthless coward hawk, unfit for training. Even 
BiADDEN accepts this view, and on p. 159 says : ' Shakespeare had a true falconer's 
contempt for '* kites That bate and beat and will not be obedient,'' — ( Tarn, of the 
Shr, IV, i, 198) and also for the worthless kestrel or staniel. This hawk was some- 
times trained. But it was lacking in courage, and was allotted by the old writers to 
the knave or servant' Hereupon follows, as an example, the present passage. 
TOLLET was, possibly, the earliest to detect the meaning which is now generally 
accepted. He defined it as ' a paltry groom, one only fit to carry arms, but not to 
use them.' This meaning he obtained from certain passages, which he quotes from 
Holinshed ; but it is not worth while to repeat them here, inasmuch as they are quoted 
more fully by W. A. Wright, whose excellent note is as follows : * a coystrill^ a 
knave. Literally a menial servant or grroom ; perhaps from the French coustillier, 
who was armed with a knife or poniard. Palsgrave has " Coustrell that wayteth on 
a speare — covsteilliery The word appears to have become degraded in meaning, 
and in the sixteenth century denoted the lowest kind of camp followers, as will be 
seen from the passages of Holinshed to which Toilet refers. For instance, in Har- 
rison's Description of England (Holinshed, i, 162) : "They [esquires] were at the 
first coster els or bearers of armes of barons or knights." And in The Historic of 
Scotland (ii, 89) : " But such coisterels, and other as remained with the Scotish 
cariage, seeing the discomfiture of their aduersaries, ran foorth and pursued them 
into those marishes." Again (p. 127) : ** Brudus . . . appointed all the horses that 
were in the campe, seruing for burden, to be bestowed among the women, lackies, 
and coistrels." In the same book (p. 217) we find enumerated together "cariage- 
men, coistrels, women, and lackies." That "coystrell" was a boy or groom in 
attendance upon the horses is clear from Holinshed, iii, 248, where it is said : "A 
knight with his esquire, and coistrell with his two horsses, might scarse be com- 
petentlie found for two shillings in siluer." In the Latin of Matthew Paris this is, 
** Ita ut quidam jejunus vix poterat miles cum suo armigero et garcione et equis 
duobus solidis argenteorum competenter sustentari ;'* where garcio is the French 
gar f on. The etymology of the word is doubtful. If ** coustrell " and ** cojrstrill " 
are identical, it would appear that Palsgrave derived them from the French coustillier^ 
[see Murray post. — Ed.], but there is another Old French word costeraux, a kind 
of banditti, with which they may be connected. Cotgrave has ** Costereauls. A 
nickname giuen vnto certaine footmen, that serued the kings of England in their 
French warres ; or as Cotereaux ; or Cottereaux." The former of these equivalents 
he defines as "A certaine crue of peasantlie outlawes, who, in old time, did much 
mischiefe vnto the Nobilitie, and Clergif^" The Old English quistron (Scotch 
autroun), which Tyrwhitt defines as a scullion, is a kindred word. In The 
Romaunt of the Rose, [line] 886, ** This god of love of his fashion Was like no knave 
ne quistron," corresponds to the French of the Roman de la Rose, ** Li Diex d' Amors 
de la faQon, Ne resembloit mie gar^on ": which shows that gar f on and quistron are 
rdated z& garcio and coistrell above, and that quistron =^ coistrell-^ coustrell ^^i;naak 

36 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. uL 

drinke to my Neece . till his braines turne o'th toe, like a 

parifh top. What wench? Cajliliano vulgo\ior here corns 42 

. 41. o^tA'\d'/A' F^F^, <^/ii^Cap. etseq. 42. viilgo] voUo Han. Warb. Cap. 

42. Cadiliano vulgo] CasUUano vul- Ran. Sing, i, Dyce ii, iii, Coll. iii, Huds. 
gar Trumbull. volgo Johns. Var. *73, ^78. 

or menial servant.' — MUR&AY (iV. E. D. s. v. Custrel): This coincides in meaning 
with Old French coustilUer^ -Uleur^ literally a soldier armed with a coustilUy hence, 
' an esquire of the bodie, an armour-bearer vnto a knight, the seruant of a man at 
armes ; also, a groome of a stable.' (Cotgrave). But the regular English repre- 
sentative of this would be custeUr aistlar^ and it is not easy to account for the 
metathesis of this to custrel. The secondary sense * knave, base fellow' (commoner 
in the variant coistrel) is not found with French coustillier^ and seems to have arisen 
from association with Custron. [Custron is given by Dr Murray as * the adopted 
form of Old French coistron^ coestron^ quistrony coitron^ in nominative case questres, 
quaistre^ scullion, a regular phonetic descendant of late LAtin, cocistrmem, nomina- 
tive cocistro *' tabemarius" (Papias) ; and means a scullion, a kitchen-knave ; hence 
a boy or lad of low birth, base-bom fellow, '* cad," vagabond.' 

Wherefore, the sum appears to be that Custrel, whereof Sir Toby used the com- 
moner variant ' coystrel,' was corrupted by evil conununication with CustroUy and 
as Dr Murray has given us the meaning of custron, we can, with his help, para- 
phrase, in the vernacular of today, Sir Toby's assertion : that he who will not drink 
to his niece is a coward and a cad. — Ed.] 

41. o'th] It is not easy to decide whether this 0' is an elision oionoxof. It is, 
probably, on, I think ; on the analogy of ' turning on his heels.' — Ed. 

42. parish top] Steevens : A large top was formerly kept in every village, to 
be whipped in frosty weather, that the peasants may be kept warm by exercise, and 
out of mischief, while they could not work. Compare Fletcher's Night WcUker, 
'And dances like a town-top and reels and hobbles.' [I, iii.] — Nares (s. v. 
Parish-top) quotes Fletcher's Thierry and Theodoret, *a boy of twelve Should 
scourge him hither like a parish-top. And make him dance before you.' [II, iv.] ; 
Jonson's The New Inn, *A merry Greek, and cants in Latin comely. Spins like the 
parish top.' [II, ii.] ; and adds, 'Evelyn, speaking of the uses of willow wood, 
among other things made of it, mentions "great town-topps." ' — Silva [Bk. i, zx, 
28. — Halliwell gives many quotations referring to ' town-tops ' and ' parish- 
tops,' mainly from the Dramatists of the Restoration. He says, ' an example of 
a parish-top has not presented itself ' ; but he gives us, from an ancient illumin- 
ated MS, an enlightening picture of two boys whipping a top. — ^Ed.] — Knight : 
This ' parish-top,' provided for the amusement of the peasants in frosty weather, 
presents a curious illustration of the mitigating influences of social kindness in an 
age of penal litigation. Whilst ' Poor Tom' was * whipped from tithing to tithing,' 
he had his May-games, and his Christmas hospitalities, and his parish-top, if he 
remained at home. [After quoting Steevens, as above, Knight proceeds] ' We 
rather believe that our ancestors were too much accustomed to rely upon other expe- 
dients, such as the halter and the stocks, for keeping the peasants out of mischief. 
But yet, with all the sternness which they called justice, the higher classes of society 
had an honest desire to promote the spirit of enjojrment amongst their himibler 
fellow-men ; and they looked not only without disdain, but with a real sympathy, 
upon 'the common recreations of the countryfolks.' — Locke Richardson, who 

ACTi,sc.iu.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 37 

[42. parish top] 
detected in * the gift of a grave* an allusion to a burial at the expense of the parish, 
conceives that by a subtle association of ideas, probably quite unconsciously on Sir 
Toby's port, Sir Toby here is led to refer to *the parish top'; more especially 
because in the year 1601, the year when Twelfth Night was performed, there was 
enacted the so-called ' famous statute/ — ^the earliest under which, by parochial taxa- 
tion, practical measures for the relief of the poor were adopted, and, consequently, 
parishes and parish matters were gready in men's mouths. 

42. Castiliano vulgo] Hanmer (whose text reads volto) : By Castilian counte- 
nance here he means her best^ her most civil and courtly looksy which he bids her put 
on because Sir Andrew is coming. Warburton says that Castiliano volto means 
' grave, solemn looks ' ; and accuses Hanmer of having ' taken ' from him the emen- 
dation, volto. This claim must rest on Warburton' s assertion. Hanmer is, certainly 
in general, scrupulous in giving credit to the authors of the emendations he adopted, 
and he makes no mention of Warburton here. The emendation, such as it is, is by 
no means beyond Hanmer* s capacity. Capell adopted it, but explains it differently, 
and, as he afiirms, better, thus : ' ** What wench ? bridle up your chin and look big, 
for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face," humorously corrupting the name in this 
place, as who should say — for here comes one who has no face to look big with ; 
but of this humour editors had no perception.' — Steevens : I meet with the wonl 
Castilian and Castilians in several of the old Comedies. It is difficult to assign any 
peculiar propriety to it, unless it was adopted immediately after the defeat of the 
Armada, and became a cant term capriciously expressive of jollity or contempt In 
The Merry Devil of Edmonton, the Host says, « Ha ! my Castilian dialogues * [p. 226, 
ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley]. In Look about You, 1600, it is joined with another toper's 
exclamation, very frequent in Shakespeare : 'And Rivo will he cry and Castile too * 
[Scene xxxiii, ad fin. ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley]. Again, in Marlowe* s few of Malta, 
•Hey, Rivo Castiliano/ a man's a man.' [Act IV, p. 325, ed. Dyce.] — Singer : 
Warburton proposed volto. ... I have met with a passage in Hall's Satires, Bk. iv. 
Sat. 2, which I think places this beyond a doubt : * There, soon as he can kiss his 
hand in gree [f. e. kindness] And with good grace bow it below the knee, Or make 
a Spanish face with fanning cheere,' etc. The Spaniards were in high estimation for 
courtesy, though the natural gravity of the national countenance was thought to be 
a cloak for villany. The Castiliano volto was in direct opposition to the viso sciolto 
which the noble Roman told Sir Henry Wootton would go safe over the world. Sir 
Toby seems to parody the phrase intentionally, — as vulgo hints rudely at language, 
and it was Maria's tongue, not her countenance, that he calls on her to restrain. [Tlie 
attentive reader can hardly fail to note the discrepancy between the first sentences of 
Singer's note and the last. After having said that Warburton' s volto was undoubt- 
edly right, he proceeds to remark that Sir Toby said « vulgo,' and so, in his Second 
Edition, he retains * vulgo' in his text. It is not my office to explain such vagaries 
in editors ; Davus sum, non CE^j>i«.— Ed.]— Collier : Sir Toby probably uses this 
as a drinking exclamation. — Halliwell : If these words mean anything, and it is 
hardly necessary to construe all Sir Toby's phrases, they may imply merely a hint to 
Maria to talk in common Spanish, that is, in familiar language. — Staunton observes 
in reference to the grave looks which Warburton says the phrase implies, * but Maria 
appears already to have been more serious than suited Sir Toby's humour.' — W. A. 
Wright : It is probable that these words have as much meaning now as they had in 
Shakespeare's time, and that is none at all. They would make a great noiae in a drink- 

38 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. iii. 

[42. Castiliano vulgo] 
ing-bouty and thus serve the only purpose for which they were used. — Br. Nichol- 
son (N. &* Qu. 7th S. xi, p. 403, 1891) : * Vulgo' is mere nonsense, while velo^ 
seemingly the only other probable substitute, is not as good as voito. This change, 
however, — which, to be still more correct, should be spelt Castiglione voUo, — would, 
I think, have been more universally accepted, had the action involved been better 
understood and made clearer to the reader by a stage-direction and a slight alteration 
in the punctuation. . . . But granting that [Maria has been, as Staunton says] too 
serious for Sir Toby, the stage action that seems to me to follow ... is peculiarly 
fitted to dispel that seriousness. ... Sir Toby says, ' He's a coward and a coystrill 
that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o'th' toe like a parish top.' Being 
a man of humour, and it being now late, or more likely early in the morning, and 
he a man fond of drink, and for both reasons willing to indulge himself with Maria, 
he seizes the occasion, suits the action to the word, pirouettes o'th' toe, and while 
so doing places his arm round Maria, turns her also, and while so embracing her, 
kisses her. I have said that this or some such toying is necessary, because other- 
wise his ' What, wench !' has no meaning. The phrase points to some attempt on 
his part, and is in rebuke, loving or otherwise, of her (affected) maidenly coyness. 
Suddenly, however, espying Sir Andrew in the near distance (bff the stage), he stops 
short, disengages himself, and cries in a lowered tone, ' Castiglione volto, for here 
comes Sir Andrew Agueface.' That she does put on her Spanish look of sedateness 
and reserve, — while, perhaps, hastily putting to rights her disordered head-gear, — is 
shown by Sir Andrew's greeting, * Bless you, fair shrew !' Sir Toby, too, purposely 
calls him * Sir Andrew Agueface,' because he cannot help a chuckle as he thinks 
how shocked a look this country knight will put on if he have observed these doings 
of the hitherto, in his presence, reserved, distant, and even shrewish-looking Maria. 
[Does not Sir Andrew see Maria now for the first time? This is, apparently, only 
his second visit to Olivia's house. — Ed.] . . . Hence, then, there is required, as 
seems to me, some such direction after ' parish top ' as [Embracing her while can- 
tinuing his parish-top gyrations , and after a feigned resistance kisses her"]. Also 
after * wench !' a dash, denoting his sudden stop, while the near approach of Sir 
Andrew requires a comma after vo/to, rather than a colon or a semicolon. [First, it 
is always perilous to meddle with the speeches of a character like Sir Toby. Sec- 
ondly, it is very far from likely that the compositors were such masters of Italian 
as to be able, in case an Italian word were misheard, to substitute another and 
perfectly correct word in that language, — if they had misheard vo/to, it is not likely 
that they would have deviated to 'vulgo.' Thirdly, it is an assumption, wholly 
gratuitous, that Castiliano voito means a 'grave, solemn countenance,' or 'most 
civil and courtly looks ' ; no other instance of the phrase has been found which will 
enable us to say what it means. In Singer's quotation from Bishop Hall ' a Spanish 
face ' may be a face which is anything but grave or solemn, or civil or courtly, — it 
may be a smiling, mocking, deceitful face. Lastly, if volto were the true word, but 
beyond the comprehension of the compositors, as is shown by their mistaking it, it 
is not likely that it would have been more intelligible to Maria ; and if none of these 
understood it, is it likely that an audience in the Globe Theatre would have under- 
stood it? We have it on the highest authority that a jest's prosperity lies in the ear 
of him who hears it. There is, however, one argument, slight enough, in favour of 
volto^ which, I think, has escaped notice. This is, the name which Sir Toby here 
gives Sir Andrew ; granting that volto is right, Sir Toby says in effect, ' put on a 

ACT I, sc. ill.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 39 

Sir Andrew Agueface, 43 

Enter Sir Andrew. 
And. Sir Toby Belch. How now fir Toby Belch ? 45 

To. Sweet fir Andrew. 
And. Bleffe you faire Shrew. 
Mar. And you tcx> fir. 
Tob. Accoft Sir Andrewy accoft. 

And. What's that ? 50 

To. My Neeces Chamber-maid« 

43. Agueface] Ague face F,. Agu€- Sta. Rife. 
-cheek Thtoh, -^^ , Agueface Dyct^ Cam, 44. Scene IV. Pope, + . 

Spanish face, here comes Agueface * ; possibly, Capell thus understood it. On the 
whole, I think that, as has been suggested, * Castiliano vulgo ' is some Bacchanalian 
phrase, whereof the application is now lost, which rises to Sir Toby's lips at the sight 
of his boon companion, Sir Andrew. Possibly, it conveyed to Sir Toby as much 
meaning as ' paucas palabris ' conveyed to Christopher Sly, or ' palabras ' to Dog- 
berry, — and, possibly, * vulgo * is an intentional blunder for volto. Wherefore, under 
no circumstances, 1 think, should the text be disturbed. 

As to 'What, wench!' — it is impossible to limit the 'business' which an actor 
may not discern in the phrase. It may be, as is often the case, merely an exclama- 
tion of impatience ; Maria is slow to comprehend that her mistress's health ought to 
be drunk even to the point of intoxication. It is not to be supposed that Sir Toby 
utters his speech without moving a muscle, or with his hands at his side. Whether 
or not Dr Nicholson has illumined the situation, it is hard to decide. We should 
certainly regard his elaborate stage-direction with respect, mindful of our debt to 
him for his admirable interpretation of Malvolio's words in II, iv, 61. — Ed.] 

47. Shrew] Pronounced shrow. This familiar address does not necessarily imply 
any previous acquaintance. Sir Andrew may have used it at a venture ; but, after 
the opinion, which she had just expressed, it is hardly likely that Maria would 
wreathe her face in smiles of welcome when she saw the ' very fool ' draw near 
to break up her interview with Sir Toby. — Ed. 

49. Accost] H ALU WELL observes that it was one of the fashionable terms of 
courtship current in Shakespeare's time. Thus, in Sir Gyles Goosecappe^ 1606: 
.' — tooke time ... to shew my courtship In the quarter legge, and setled looke. 
The quicke kisse of the top of the forefinger. And other such exploytes of good 
Accost.' [IV, ii, p. 64, ed« Bullen. M alone, Boswell, and many succeeding 
editors have given us definitions of this word, quoting from Cotgrave and other 
authorities. Can we, however, desire a definition better than Shakespeare's own, 
which he gives us in lines 55, 56, below ? — Ed.] 

51. Chamber-maid] Let not the modem humble duties of making beds, airing 
rooms, etc, be imputed to Maria, who stood in relation to Olivia, as a companion, 
and as an assistant at the toilette. In I, v, 162, Olivia calls her ' my Gentlewoman,* 
and Malvolio immediately responds by summoning her, as * Gentlewoman.' She can 
write (II, iii, 154) so ' very like ' the Lady Olivia that ' in a forgotten matter we can 
hardly make distinction of our hands.' In the end, she marries Sir Toby, and 

40 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. liL 

Ma.GooA Miftris accoft, I defire better acquaintance 52 

Ma, My name is Mary fir. 

And. Good miftris Mary^ accoft. 

To J You miftake knight : Accoft, is front her, boord 55 

her, woe her,affayle her. 

And. By my troth I would not vndertake her in this 
company. Is that the meaning of Accoft ? 

Ma. Far you well Gentlemen. 

To. And thou let part fo Sir Andrew^ would thou 60 

mightft neuer draw fword agen. 

52. Ma.] An. Ff. Cap. 

<u€oft'\ Accost Rowe. 59. Far\ Fare Ff. 

54. miftris\ Mrs. Var. ^78, Ran. 60, 62. And'\ If Pope, Han. an 

l/laiYf acco/i,"] Maryaccos/.Koyfe Theob. ct seq. 

i. Mary Accost, Rowe ii, Pope, Han. 60. letpart\Y^, let her part ¥ ^ ^, ■\- ^ 

Mary Accost, — Theob. et seq. Var. '73, Dyce ii, iii. Coll. iii (MS), 

55» 56. boord Aer'\ board her Rowe Ktiy, Huds. 

et seq. would'\ ^ would Cap. Mai. Steev. 

56. woe'\ wooe Ff, Roweii, + . woo Var. *2i, Knt 

howerer disastrous a marriage to so turbulent a husband may prove, we do not feel 
that there is any great discrepancy in social rank. — Ed. 

52. acquaintance] Walker (Crit. iii, 83): The Folio has no stop after 
< acquaintance ' ; one of its two modes of expressing that a sentence is incomplete ; 

the other being, as now, by a . It is an unfinished address, — subaudi, * with 

your beauty,* or the like. The same takes place. III, i, 95. — Cambridge Editors : 
The real reason of the omission of the stop in F, is that the word occurs so near the 
end of the line that there was no room for its insertion. It is found in all the other 
Folios. [There is another reason for doubting the soundness of Walker's sugges- 
tion. If line 52 be interrupted by Mary, surely line 54 is interrupted by Sir Toby ; 
and yet after line 54 there is a stop. The omission of the stop in III, i, 95, is, I 
think, a mere typographical oversight. Walker makes no attempt there to fill out the 
sentence, nor is it easy to imagine that any words are needed. — Ed.] 

55. boord] Whalley conjectured that this should be spelled bourd, meaning to 
johe, to jest, to toy ; but Steevens supposed that in this case the phrase should be 
* bourd zuith her,' and remained unconvinced that ' board,' the naval term, is not the 
proper reading. Nares, with an acrimony unusual to him, says that Whalley was 
actuated by the common * zeal of a critic for a word he had newly discovered.' 
Haluwell remarks that * the word is often used with a double entendre, and it is 
probable from Sir Andrew's answer that Sir Toby may have here alluded as well to 
the more wanton meaning '; and thereupon follow examples from authors other than 
Shakespeare. For those who cannot extract the simple meaning from Sir Toby's 
own words, Schmidt's Lex. will give six or seven examples of * board' used in its 
figurative sense of to woo, to address, as here. — Ed. 

60. let part] The Text. Notes show the respectable following which the Third 
and Fourth Folios have in reading < let her part '; this receives additional support 
from Sir Andrew's rejoinder, 'And you part so,' etc. But I doubt that this her is 

ACT I, sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 41 

And. And you part fo miftris, I would I might neuer 62 

draw fword agen : Faire Lady, doe you thinke you haue 
fooles in hand ? 

Ma, Sir, I haue not you by'th hand. 65 

An. Marry but you fhall haue, and heeres my hand. 

Ma. Now fir, thought is free : I pray you bring your 
hand to'th Buttry barre, and let it drinke. 

An. Wherefore (fweet-heartf) What's your Meta- 
phor ? 70 

65. byth-\ F,. 68. to'th-\ F,. 

66. hand^ ha d F,. 69. fweet-hearf^ fweet heart F^F^, 

67. thought is free'\ As a quotation, Rowe, + . 
Wh. Cam. 

needed; even if it were not trne that an obvious pronoun is frequently omitted 
(see Abbott, § 244), the phrase may be explained, I think, by the absorption of it 
in the final / of * let,* where it refers to the whole question or the whole subject, just 
AS we should now say, 'if you let it drop.' For the eye, therefore, the present 
phrase might be printed, I think, ' If thou let' part so,' etc. — Ed. 

67. Now sir] Walker {CHt. iii, 84) : Surely, 'Nay, sir.' [It is a little sur- 
prising that Dyce, who, in his Second and Third Editions, was so much under the 
influence of Walker and of Walker's editor, Lettsom, did not here adopt this 
plausible Nay, which seems more appropriate than the didactic ' Now.' Possibly, 
the reason why change is needless, is that * Now ' indicates that Maria has taken Sir 
Andrew's hand, and by asserting that 'thought is free' covertly intimates that she 
thinks she spoke the truth when, in line 65, she implied that he was a fool. — Ed.] 

67. thought is free] Holt White: There is the same pleasantry in Lyiy's 
Euphues, 1581 : 'A noble man in Sienna disposed to iest with a gentlewoman . . . 
gan thus to salute hir . . . of your wit I cannot iudge, no quoth she, I beleeue you, 
for none can iudge of wit, but they that haue it, why then quoth he, doest thou thinke 
me a foole, thought is free my Lord quoth she, I wil not take you at your word.' [p. 
218, ed. Arber.] — W. A. Wright : A proverbial expression, which is at least as old 
as Gower. See Confessio Amantis, B. v (ii, 277, ed. Pauli): ' I have heard said, that 
thought is free.' And Hejrwood's Proverbs (ed. Spenser Society), p. 47. 

68. Buttry barre] Murray (N. E. D.)i Buttery, — apparently an adopted form 
of Old French boterie — bouteillerie (Godef ), extant representative of late Latin 
hotHria, formed on bota, a variant of butta, cask, botUe. The transition from the 
sense of * store-room for liquor ' to that of * store-room for provisions generally ' is in 
accordance with analogy, but may have been helped by association with Butter. But- 
tery-hatch is the half-door over which the buttery provisions are served ; buttery-bar, 
a board or ledge on the top of the buttery-hatch, on which to rest tankards, etc. 

69. sweet-heart] Rolfe (Note on Rom. &* Jul. IV, v, 3) says that this combi- 
nation is uniformly accented, in Shakespeare, on the last syllable, except in Wint, 
Tale, IV, iv, 664, 'take your sweet-heart's hat.' [There is a second exception in 
M Hen, IV: II, iv, 197, *Give me some sack; and, sweet-heart, lie thou there.' 
For examples from other dramatists, where tlie accent is on the last word, see 
Walker {Vers, 277).— Ed.] 

42 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. iii. 

Ma. It's dry fir. 71 

And. Why I thinke fo : I am not fuch an affe, but I 
can keepe my hand dry. But what's your ieft ? 

Ma. A dry ieft Sir. 

And. Are you full of them ? 75 

Ma.\ Sir, I haue them at my fingers ends: marry now 
I let go your hand, I am barren. Exit Maria 

To. O knight, thou lack'ft a cup of Canarie;when did 
/ fee thee fo put downe ? 

An. Neuer in your life I thinke, vnleffe you fee Ca- 80 

narie put me downe : mee thinkes fometimes I haue no 

76. fingers ends'] F,, Pope ii, Theob. i, 79. thee] the F^. 

Han. Johns. Var. '73. finger ends F F^, 8o. fee] saw Dyce ii, iii, Huds. 

Rowe, Pope i. finger's ends Theob. ii, 81. put me] put Ff, Rowe. 
Warb. Var. '85, Steev. fingers^ ends mee thinkes] methinks Rowe. 

Cap. et cet. 

71. It's dry sir] Johnson : What is the jest oi dry hand, I know not any better 
than Sir Andrew. It may possibly mean, a hand with no money in it ; or, accord- 
ing to the rules of physiognomy, she may intend to insinuate, that it is not a lover's 
hand, a moist hand being vulgarly accounted a sign of an amorous constitution. — 
Kenrick (p. 94) : The 'bringing the hand to the buttery-bar, and letting it drink' 
is a proverbial phrase among forward Abigails, to ask at once for a kiss and a present. 
Sir Andrew's slowness of comprehension in this particular, gave her a just suspicion 
at once of his frigidity and avarice. She, therefore, calls his hand dry ; the moist- 
ness of the hand being a sign of liberality, as well in matters of love as money. 
Thus in 0th, III, iv, 44, * This hand is moist, my Lady. . . . This argues fruitfulness 
and liberall heart : Hot, hot, and moyst.' Dr Johnson need not, therefore, have 
expressed so much caution of suspecting this to be the truth of the matter. There 
is one thing, however, he should have attended to ; and this is, that the whole of 
this insinuation is founded rather on the rules of palmistry, than physiognomy. . . . 
Maria's finding out anything from Sir Andrew's patm by the rules of physiognomy 
is as absurd as if she had read his folly in his phyz by the rules of palmistry. [For 
a 'dry hand' as a sign of debility and old age, see Much Ado, II, i, 112 ; 2 Hen. 
IV : I, ii, 204. See Steevens and Halliwell for quotations from other sources, 
in reference to dryness and moisture, which are more applicable than edifying. — Ed.] 

72, 73. I am . . . dry] Malone : I suppose, Sir Andrew means that he is not 
such a fool but that he can keep himself out of the water. [MaiHa did not say that 
Sir Andrew was dry, but merely that his hand, which she was hdlding, was dry. I 
suppose Sir Andrew means exactly what he says. — Ed.] 

74. dry iest] That is, in one of its meanings, stupid, tedious ; Olivia says to Feste, 
*Go too, y'are a dry foole.' I, v, 39. 

77. barren] That is, in one of its meanings, witless ; Hamlet refers to * a quantity 
of barren spectators.' Ill, ii, 38. 

78. Canarie] Murray {^N. E. D.^x K light sweet wine from the Canary Islands. 
Formerly also in the plural. [The earliest reference, given by Murray, is I597» 
2 Hen. IV: II, iv, 29 : * I 'faith, you have drunk too much canaries.'] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 43 

more wit then a Chriftian, or an ordinary man ha's : but I 82 

am a great eater of beefe, and I beleeue that does harme 
to my wit. 

To, No queftion. 85 

An. And I thought that, Fde forfweare it. He ride 
home to morrow fir Toby. 

To. Pur-quoy my deere knight? 

An. What is purqiioy} J^o y or not do ? I would I had \ " 
beftowed that time in the tongues, that I haue in fencing l 90 
dancing, and beare-bayting : O had I but followed the I 
Arts. // 

To. Then hadft thou had an excellent head of haire. 93 

82. man\ mans F,. 88. Pur-quoy] Pour-quoi Rowe ii. 
86. And'\ ^Pope. -^wTheob. etseq. Pourquoi Coll. 

83. eater of beefe] Halliwell : < Beefe is a good meate for an Englysshe man, 
so be it the beest be yonge, & that it be not koweflesshe ; For olde beefe and kowe- 
flesshe doth ingender melancolye and leporouse humoures.' — Andrew Boorde, Jiegy- 
mmt or dyetary of HeUh, 1542 [p. 271, ed. E. E. Text Soc.]. — R. G. White: 
' Galen affirmeth y' biefe maketh grosse bloude and engendreth melancholie, espe- 
cially if it be much eaten, and if such as doe eat it be of melancholy complexion.' — 
The Hatun of Healthy 1 584, p. 114. — RusHTON (Euphuism, p. 40) : *As for the 
Quailes you promise me, I can be content with beefe, and for the questions they must 
be easie, els shall I not aunswere them, for my wit will shew with what grosse diot 
I haue been brought vp.* — Lyly's Euphues and his England, 1580, [p. 400, ed. 
Arbcr]. Again, Tro. <Sr* Cress, II, i, 14: *Thou mongrel beef-witted lord !* W. A. 
Wright (referring to this quotation from Tro, &* Cress,) : Thersites means that 
Ajax's wits were as coarse as his food, not [as Schmidt says in his Lex. — Ed.] that 
he had no more wit than an ox. 

92. Arts] Karl Elze (p. 175) suggests that there is here a pun on < arts* and 
hardsy coarse tow. But, for reasons too numerous to mi^ntion, this is unlikely. — Ed. 

93. head of haire] Unless it be noted tha/* tongues '^nd/^^ were pronounced 
alike, the point of Sir Toby's joke is lost. T?Sr"Cfedit of discovering this point is 
generally given to J oseph Cr osby, who announced it in The American Bibliopo- 
list, 1875, June, p. 143. But he was certainly anticipated by Otto Gildemeister 
in ffie'TJotes to his translation of Twelflh Night, in 1869. And I am not sure 
that both were not anticipated by Rann, in 1787. Rann's note is brief, so brief, 
indeed, as to make it, at first, a little doubtful that he fully appreciated the context, 
but, on the whole, the insight must be, I think, conceded to him. His note is on 
' by nature,' in lines 95 and 96, and consists of only four words : a dash, which with 
him means, 'that is,* and 'without tongs, (a pun.)* Surely, by *a pun* he refers 
to * tongues ' ; and if so, to him belongs the credit of having first detected Sir Toby's 
wit. Gildemeister, who certainly deserves praise for discovering a pun in a lan- 
guage not his own, wrote as follows : * I know not if, in the i6th Kxn\MTfytongs were 
used for^rling hair ; if they were, we then have, in Sir Andrew's sigh for the 
" tongue v' a ^ey to a joke which would be otherwise pointless.' Not only were 



[act I, sc. iii. 


An, Why, would that haue mended my haire ? 
To. Part queftion, for thou feeft it will not coole my 
An^\x\. it becoms we wel enough, doft not? (nature 
To. Excellent, it hangs like flax on a diftaffe: & I hope 
to fee a hufwife take thee between her legs, & fpin it off. 
-^«.Faith He home to morrow fir Toby^ your niece wil 



95. cooU my\ F,. Cool my F^F^, 
Rowe, Pope, curl by Theob. et cet 

96. we\ me Yi. 

96. dq/f\ Yi, doe^t Rowe et seq. 
98. hu/wifi^ hou/wife F^. house-wife 
Pope ii, Theob. Warb. 

the words ' tongues ' and ' tongs ' pronounced alike, but in one instance, at least, 
' tongues ' was, m the same sentence, spelled both tongues and tongs. Thus in 
Nashe's Haue with you to Saffron- Walden^ '596, we find: * wheras wittie Aesope 
did buy vp all the tongues in the market hee could spie, as the best meate hee 
esteemed of, they (by all means possible), euen out of the buckles of thejrr girdles, 
labor to plucke forth the tongs, for feare they should plucke in their vnsatiate greedie 
paunches too straight,' — p. 48, ed. Grosart. Again, we find the spelling of ' tongues ' 
for tongs ^ nigh a hundred years later. That Past- Master in Gossip, John Aubrey, 
wrote his Brief Lives about 1680, that is, a little before the date of the Fourth Folio. 
In his life of Thomas Allen, a great astrologer and reputed conjuror, Aubrey tells 
us that on one occasion when Allen was on a visit to * Mr John Scudamore (grand- 
father to the lord Scudamor) he happened to leave his watch in the chamber windowe 
— (watches were then rarities) — The maydes came in to make the bed, and hearing 
a thing in a case cry Ticky Tick, Ticky presently concluded that that was his Devill, 
and tooke it by the string with the tongues, and threw it out of the windowe into the 
mote (to drowne the Devill.) It so happened that the string hung on a sprig of an 
elder that grew out of the mote, and this confirmed them that 'twas the Devill. So the 
good old gentleman gott his watch again.' — vol. i, p. 28, ed. Clark. In As You Like 
Ity III, ii, 126, we have in the First and Second Folio ' Tonges He hang on euerie 
tree,* and the Third and Fourth Folios have * Tongs.' Finally, in Coles's English 
Dictionary y 1732, there is a list of * the most usual Words whose Sound is the same^ 
but their Settse and Orthography very different* ; in this list, we find * TongSy for the 
fire. Tongues, Languages.* I have but little doubt that the pronunciation tungs 
for tongs still survives, sporadically, among elderly gentle folk in New England at 
this day. — Ed. 

95. coole my] The Text, Notes show Theobald's admirable emendation. Unfor- 
tunately, he missed the pun on 'tongues,' and supposed the point of Sir Toby's 
rejoinder lay in the contrast between 'nature' and Sir Andrew's *arts.' He pro- 
posed his emendation in 1729, in a letter to Warburton (Nichols, ii, 21 1), wherein 
he says that ' curl by nature ' means * no more, I think, than, if Sir Andrew had 
had art enough in him to tie up his hair, it had not hung so lank as it did by 

99. lie home] W. A. Wright : For the omission of the verb of motion, com- 
pare Jul, Cas, I, i, 74 : * I'll about '; and Hamlet, III, iii, 4 : *And he to England 
shall along with you.' 

99. wil] That is, cannot be persuaded to be seen. Compare ' My eye will scarcely 
see it' — Hen, V: II, ii, 104. 

ACT I, sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 45 

not be feene, or if (he be it^s four to one, fhe'l none of me : 100 
the Connt himfelfe here hard by, wooes her, 

To. 5hee'l none o'th Count, fhe'l not match aboue hir 
degree, neither in eftate,yeares, nor wit : I haue heard her 
fwear t. Tut there's life in't man. 

And. He ftay a moneth longer. I am a fellow o'th 105 
ftrangeft minde i'th world : I delight in Maskes and Re- 
uels fometimes altogether. 

To. Art thou good at thefe kicke-chawfes Knight ? 

And. As any man in lUyria, whatfoeuer he be, vnder 
the degree of my betters, & yet I will not compare with 1 10 
an old man. 

loi, 102. County'\ Duke, Rowe, + . 106. fM] €the F^, Cap. et scq. 

loi. woo€s\woe5 Qx^, zwwjVar. '21. 108. kicke-chaw/€s]¥ ^. kick-Jhaw/es^ 

104. /wear f\ fwear eY ^, swearY^^^ F^ kickshawses G\o. Cam. Rife, Huds. 
Rowe, Pope, Han. swear' /C&p, Wh. i, Dtn, Wh. ii. kick-Jhaws F^, Rowe et 
Dyce, Cam. Sta. Rife, swear it Theob. cet. 

et cet. III. an old fnan\ an older man Kin- 

105. tnoneih'\ month F^. near. 
dtK\ dthe Var. '73 et seq. 

100. none of me] Abbott (§ 53) : < None * is still used by us for nothings fol- 
lowed by a partitive genitive, * I had none of it'; and this explains the Elizabethan 
phrase ' She will none of me,' /. e, * She desires to have nothing from, as regards to 
do with, me.' So in 'He no more of you,' I, v, 39 ; < satisfaction can be none,' 
III, iv, 237. 

104. there's life in't] W. A. Wright : And while there is life there is hope. 
Compare Lear, IV, vi, 206 : * Then there's life in't.' Similarly, Ant. dr' Cleop. Ill, 
xiii, 192 : « There's sap in't yet.' 

106. i'th world] In thus imagining himself to be an exception to the rest of 
mankind, a common trait in weaklings. Sir Andrew furnishes us with the key to his 
character, or, if not the key, it is at least one of its wards. — Ed. 

108. kicke-chawses] Skeat (s. v.) : At a later time [i. e. than Shakespeare] 
kickshaws was incorrectly regarded as being a plural form. Kickshaws is a curious 
corruption of French quelque chose, literally something, hence, a trifle, small deli- 
cacy. This can be abundantly proved by quotations. ^Fricandeaux, short, skin- 
lesse, and dainty puddings, or quelkchoses, made of good flesh and herbs chopped 
together, then rolled up into the form of liverings, etc, and so boiled.' — Cotgrave. 
• Nor shall we then need the Monsieurs of Paris to take our hopefull Youth into 
their slight and prodigal custodies and send them over back again transform' d 
into Mimicks, Apes, and Kicshoes.' — Milton, Of Education [vol. iv, p. 393, ed. 

III. an old man] Theobald, in his correspondence with Warburton (Nichols, 
ii, 354) conjectured, doubtfully, a nobleman ; it was not repeated in his edition, 
which contains no note on the passage. — Warburton : This is intended as a satire 
on that common vanity of old men, in preferring their own times, and the past gen- 
eration, to the present — Heath (p. 186) : If our poet had this intention, he was 

46 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. iii. 

To. What is thy excellence in a galliard^ knight ? 112 


very unhappy in the expressing it ; for the words have not the least tendency to this 
sense. And in truth, a satire in the mouth of Sir Andrew would be something very 
extraordinary, as it would be no less so, that the poet should pitch on him as the 
organ to convey his own sentiments. The sense seems to be, And yet I took on 
myself as above being put on a level with an old man in this matter, how superior 
soever he may be to me in other respects. — Capell (p. 141) : Sir Andrew's mean- 
ing is something obscure ; the play's aera must help us; which from great probabili- 
ties, we may place at 1607, or thereabouts [Manningham's Diary had not, in 
Capell' s time, been discovered. — Ed.] ; in that year, the rage of 'masques' was 
predominant ; and upon these fooleries, is the making Sir Andrew ' delight ' in 
them a wipe undoubtedly ; and upon some director, or patronizer, who was of years 
to have more wisdom, are the words in question another wipe. — Steevens : Ague- 
cheek, though willing enough to arrogate to himself such experience as is commonly 
the acquisition of age, is yet careful to exempt his person from being compared 
with its bodily weakness. — Halliwell : The text seems to be correct, being merely 
one of Sir Andrew's absurdities, and intentional on the part of the author. The 
worthy knight's head was none of the clearest. — Badham (7>x/ of Sh. p. 287) : It 
is useless to look for the explanation of the editors in so palpable a blunder. It 
must be obvious to any ordinary reader that * an old man ' is a false reading for a 
nobleman. Sir Andrew has just been speaking of the Count Orsino as a rival whom 
he cannot pretend to cope with, so that the allusion to a nobleman is most natural. 
[It is not to be supposed that Badham knew he had been anticipated by Theobald. 
— Ed.] — The Cowden-Clarkes : By the term * an old man,' the knight means 
a man of experience, just as he has before deferred to * his betters'; while the use 
of the word * old ' gives precisely that absurd effect of refraining from competing in 
dancing, fencing, etc. , with exactly the antagonist incapacitated by age, over whom 
even Sir Andrew might hope to prove his superiority. [But Sir Toby was not 
referring to * dancing ' and * fencing,' when he asked if Sir Andrew were good at 
these kickshawses, but to 'masks' and 'revels.' — Ed.] — Deighton : The former 
comparison, with his betters, he declines on account of his reverence for them, the 
latter comparison with old men, because he feels his superiority to them. [Hudson 
is the only editor who has adopted Theobald's emendation. • Why,' he asks * should 
Sir Andrew here speak of comparing himself with **an old man"? The whole 
drift of the foregoing dialogue is clearly against that reading.' Both Rolfe and 
W. A. Wright think that the comparison, as irrelevant nonsense, may have been 
intentional, wherein I agree with them ; and yet it is possible that it may be a 
clumsy disclaimer of any attempt at rivalry, in any accomplishment, with Sir Toby, 
who, though not an old man, was certainly older than Sir Andrew ; the latter, with 
the gaucherie of his kind, in trying to pay a compliment, offensively exaggerated the 
difference in their ages. — Ed.] 

112. Mason (p. 113) : This line should be pointed thus: * What is thy excel- 
lence? in a galliard, knight?' Meaning, *■ In what are you most excellent? is it in 
a galliard?' [Rann and Staunton adopted this punctuation.] 

112. galliard] Bradley {N, E. D.^ \ An adaptation of Old French and French 
gaillardy -art (modem French gaillard) = Provencal, galhart^ Spanish, galiardo^ 
Portuguese, galhardo, Italian, gagliardo, of unknown origin. 2. sb. A quick and lively 
dance in triple time. — Naylor (p. 122) : Cinquepace is the name of the original 

ACT I. sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 47 

And. Faith, I can cut a caper. 1 1 3 

To. And I can cut the Mutton too't. 

And. And I thinke I haue the backe-tricke, fimply as 115 
ftrong as any man in Illyria, 

To. Wherefore are thefe things hid ? Wherefore haue 
thefe gifts a Curtaine before 'em ? Are they like to take 1 18 

114. tooW\ toU FjF^ et seq. 118. 'eni\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. i, 
116. [Dances fantastically. Coll. ii. Han. Wh. Dyce, Cam. Glo. Sta. Rife, 

(MS). Huds. Dtn. t/ifm Theob. ii et cet. 

Gailiard. Praetorius (b. 157 1 ) says a Galliard hasjiv^ steps and is therefore called 
Cinque Pas. (P. 142) Here are the Steps of the Galliard, consisting of five move- 
ments of the feet, and the caper, or ' sault majeur.' i. Greve (which is explained 
as a ' coup de pied ' ) gaulche ; 2. Greve droicte ; 3. Greve gaulche ; 4. Greve 
droicte; 5. Sault majeur; 6. Posture gaulche. i, 2, 3, 4, 6 are the 'Cinq' pas, 
and 5 is the characteristic leap or caper. [See, if need be. Much Ado about Nothings 
II, i, 69, of this ed. where the music of a galliard is given. — Ed.] 

113, 114. caper . . . Mutton] Rolfe : The pun here shows that the association 
of capers with boiled mutton is as old as that of apple-sauce with roast goose, on 
which Romeo quibbles in Rotn, &* Jul. II, iv, 85. — Hudson: A double pun is 
probably intended here; the meaning being, 'If you can do the man's part in a 
galliard, I can do the woman's.' Mutton was sometimes used as a slang term for a 
woman [of low character, however. — Ed.]. 

115. backe-tricke] The Cowden-Clarkes : Here Sir Andrew is making a dis- 
cursive allusion to his fencing-feats, meaning by * back-trick ' a back-handed stroke 
with the sword; and not keeping to the discussion of his dancing powers, meaning 
by * back-trick * some retiring step, some elegance of graceful retreat. The word 
' strong ' makes for the former interpretation. [I am at a loss to know to which of 
these two different interpretations the Editors give their preference. — Ed.] — Schmidt 
(Lex. ) : A caper backwards in dancing ; perhaps, here, with a quibble : the trick 
of going back in a fight. [There seems to be a general agreement that Schmidt is 
right in his definition, but wrong in his suggestion of a quibble. Deighton, who, 
in his note on 'galliard,' quoted Hey wood. An Humorous Day*s Mirthy 1599 J 
' I fetcht me two or three fine capers aloft, and took my leave of them as men do of 
their mistresses at the ending of a galliard.' thinks that the ' back-trick ' is * the caper 
backwards in retiring, as exemplified by this quotation from Hey wood.' A galliard 
may have ended in a sault majeur, but I doubt that gentlemen took leave of their part- 
ners in this gymnastic manner. There must have been some courtesy as ceremonious as 
that for which directions are given in the basse dance where * you must salute the Damoi- 
selle, and keep hold of her hand, and lead her back to where you began.' ( — Naylor, 
p. 141.) By the 'back-trick' I think Sir Andrew means, not one single caper back- 
ward, but what is called the /Severs (Naylor, p. 143), where all five steps are reversed, 
or taken backward. It app>ears to have been the proper thing in galliards for the 
partners to return to the place whence they started. To advance was, possibly , com- 
paratively easy ; it is quite conceivable that to reverse (Sir Andrew's 'back-trick '), 
some skill was needed so to strike the feet alternately on the ground as to bring the 
couple in the right position facing each other, not only at the conclusion of the tune 
but on the spot whence they set out. — Ed.] 

48 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. ui. 

duft, like miftris Mais picSlure ? Why doft thou not goe 1 19 

119. Mais] MalVs Rowe et seq. 

118. Curtaine] Malone: Thus, in Webster's The White Devil, 1612 : 'I yet 
but draw the curtain; — now to your picture.* [p. 70, ed Dyce.] — Halliwell (note 
on I, V, 230) : In allusion to the custom which prevailed in Shakespeare's time, of 
oil paintings being protected by curtains, which were only drawn on particular occa- 
sions or for exhibition. The application to a woman's face occurs in Tro, dr* Cress. 
where Pandarus says, — 'come draw this curtain, and let's see your picture.* [ — III, 
ii, 49.] Allusions to curtains before pictures are frequently met with. < Two great 
tables of the Queenes Majesties pictures, with one curtaine of changeable silck ; two 
great pictures of my Lord, in whole proporcion, the one in armor, the other in a sute 
of russett sattin ; with one curtaine to them.' — Inventory of the Goods at Kenil- 
worth Castle, 1588. *Of the pictures which Jack of Newbery had in his house, 
whereby he encouraged his servants to seek for fame and dignity, — In a fair and 
large parlor, which was wainscoated round about. Jack of Newbery had fifteen fair 
pictures hanging, which were covered with curtains of green silk, fringed with gold, 
which he would often shew to his friends and servants.' — History of Jack of New- 
bery. [Many more quotations are given by Halliwell, but, assuredly, the foregoing 
are all-sufficient, in illustration of a practice which still survives. — Ed.] 

118, 119. like to take dust] B. Nicholson {^N6f Qu. 1874, 5th, ii, 283) ven- 
tures to explain why the picture should be like to take dust by a passage which 
occurs in Webster's and Marston's Malcontent, V, i, where an old courtesan 
secures a wide-spread advertisement by trickery as follows : ' she gets all the picture- 
makers to draw her picture ; when they have done, she most courtly finds fault with 
them one after another, and never fetcheth them ; they in revenge of this, execute 
her pictures as they do in Germany, and hang her in their shops ; by this means she 
is better known .... than if she had been five times carted.' It is to this story 
that Nicholson supposes that Sir Toby alludes, ' when the exposed and uncared-for 
pictures were somewhat dust-covered as compared with the other specimens of each 
portrait painter's art.' 

119. xnistris Mala] Steevens: The real name of the woman, whom I suppose 
to have been meant by Sir Toby, was Mary Frith. The appellation, by which she 
was generally known, was Mall Cutpurse. On the Stationery Registers, August 7, 
1610, is entered : ' Henry Gosson. Entred for his Copye vnder thandes of master 
Edward Abbott and master Adames warden A booke called. The Madde pranckes 
of mery Mall of the Banckside, with her walkes in mans apparell, and to what pur- 
pose, written by John Day.'[ — Arber's Transcript, iii, 441.] Middleton and Dekker 
wrote a comedy of which she is the heroine; its title is as follows : 'The Roaring 
Girle. Or Moll Cut- Purse. As it hath lately beene Acted on the Fortune-Stage by 
the Prince his Players. 161 1.' The frontispiece to it contains a full length picture of 
her in man's clothes, smoking tobacco. Nathaniel Field [has introduced her as one 
of his Dramatis Personce'] in his Amends for Ladies, and there gives [a character of 
her, which may be found in I, i, p. ill, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley]. A Life of this woman 
was published in 1662. — Malone: Mary Frith was bom in 1584 and died in 1659. 
In a MS letter in the British Museum from John Chamberlain to Mr Carleton, 
II Feb. 1611-12, the following account is given of this woman's doing penance: 
'This last Sunday Moll Cutpurse, a notorious baggage that used to go in man's 
apparel, and challenged the field of diverse gallants, was brought to the same place 

ACT I, sc. iii.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 49 

[119. mistris Mais pidture] 
[Paul's Cross,] where she wept bitterly, and seemed very penitent ; but it is since 
doubted she was maudlin drunk, being discovered to have tippePd of three quarts 
of sack before she came to her penance. She had the daintiest preacher or ghostly 
father that ever I saw in the pulpit, one Radcliffe of Brazen-Nose College in Oxford, 
a likelier man to have led the revels in some inn of court, than to be where he was. 
But the best is, he did extremely badly, and so wearied the audience, that the best 
part went away, and the rest tarried rather to hear Moll Cutpurse than him.' [The 
curious reader may learn in Halli well's note ad loc, and in Dyce's Introduction to 
Middleton's Roaring Girl many farther particulars of Mary Frith' s career, and may 
find her Li/e^ told by Charles Andrews, in admirable Fielding-esque style, in 
Lives of Twehe Bad Women ^ London, 1897, p. 49. The incurious reader will 
doubtless find the foregoing extracts from Steevens and Malone quite ample, more 
especially as the drift of modem opinion is tending greatly to doubt that Sir Toby's 
'mistris Mai' has any reference at all to Moll Cutpurse. Singer (ed. ii) was the 
earliest to mistrust this reference. 'It has been supposed,' he says in his note 
ad loc.y *that the allusion here is to Mall Cutpurse. . . . But <* Mistress Mall " is no 
doubt a mere impersonation, like "my lady's eldest son" in Much Ado about 
Nothing. She is merely a type of a lady solicitous for the preservation of her 
charms even when transferred to canvas.' In the following year, R. G. White 
observed that Mistress Moll's picture * appears to be named merely as a type of female 
portraits which were carefiilly preserved from dust, — Mary being the commonest of 
all names for women. . . . It is possible that Moll Cutpurse is referred to though 
there appears to be no necessity for supposing this to be the case ; and her portrait 
would hardly be painted in a style to require the protection of a curtain, or she be 
referred to as Mistress Moll.' Dyce next hinted a doubt. At the conclusion of his 
note ( Gloss.) on the present passage, wherein he quotes at length the notes of Steevens 
and Malone, he asks, 'After all, can it be that << Mistress Mall's picture" means 
merely a lady s picture ? So we still say "master Tom" or "Master Jack" to 
designate no particular individual, but of young gentlemen generally.' Schmidt 
(Lex,) finds an objection to Moll Cutpurse on grounds more substantial than any 
hitherto urged, namely, on the score of her youth at the time this present play was 
written. He says that she was bom in 1589, which would make her but twelve or 
thirteen years old when Sir Toby was speaking. Malone' s date, however, of Moll's 
birth, 1584, is more likely to be correct, inasmuch as she died in 1659, and all 
accounts agree in stating that this was in the seventy-fifth year of her age. Yet 
this hardly weakens Schmidt's argument ; were five years added to twelve or thirteen, 
her precocity and notoriety would be still incredible. Moll herself says in her Life 
that it was for her first putting on of man's clothes that she was forced to do penance 
at Paul's Cross ; and this we know was in i6ii~i2, and it may well have been the 
beginning of her wide-spread notoriety. Wherefore, I think, Schmidt's argument is 
well founded. Had the Lexicographer stopped there, his note would be entirely 
satisfactory ; unfortunately, he proceeds to say : ' Perhaps Sir Toby only means to 
say : like a picture intended for a beauty, but in fact representing Mall the kitchen- 
wench.' What possible connection this meaning can have with the modest conceal- 
ment of Sir Andrew's accomplishments I cannot, try as I may, discover. Rolfe, 
influenced by this same fact of Moll's youth at the time Twelfth Night was written, 
* inclines to agree ' with Singer. W. A. Wright believes that the date of John Day's 
book in the entry in the Stationer^ Registers^ August, 16 10, indicates the period when 


50 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. iu. 

to Church in a Gatliard, and come home in a Carranto ? 1 20 

120. Carranid\ Coranto Rowe ii et seq. 

' the virago appears to have flourished * ; < so that/ he goes on to say, < I am inclined 
to think the Mistress Mall of the present passage was some notoriety other than Mary 
Frith.' In N. <Sr* Qu. (1878, 5th, x, 3) J. F. Marsh notes an entirely new allosion. He 
believes that Mistress Mall's portrait is not that of Moll Cutpurse, but of Maria : ' Pic- 
tures in general, or any picture in particular, would have served Sir Tob3r's turn, but he 
gives force to the expression by specifying the portrait of Olivia's gentlewoman, Maria, 
with whom Sir Andrew and he have just been having a wit combat, and who was 
therefore present to his thoughts, if her picture was not hanging before his eyes.* 
B. Nicholson (79. p. 182) finds three objections to this interpretation of Marsh: 
First, Maria is never called Mai, or Mistress Mai, or Moll elsewhere in the play. 
Secondly, it cannot be shown that Maria ever had her portrait taken, or, if she had, 
is it at all probable that Olivia would have permitted her chambermaid's portrait to 
be hung up in her public rooms. Thirdly, if the passage be looked into it will show 
that Mistress Mai's picture had no curtain. ' Why,' says Sir Toby, ' have these gifts 
a curtain before them ? [when exposed] are they likely to take dust, like Mistress 
Mai's [exposed] picture?* Nicholson then refers to his own quotation from The 
Malcontent (in the foregoing note on Mike to take dust') as likely to show that 
Shakespeare and Marston and Webster all refer to the same story. Of course Marsh 
replied (/^. p. 423) and, to his own satisfaction, swept clean aside all three of these 
objections, and concluded his note with the emphatic assertion that, < if the name in 
Marston' s play had been Mall, or even if the exposure of a picture of Moll Cut- 
purse in a broker's window had been an ascertained fact instead of a conjecture, it 
would not have shaken my opinion that Shakespeare's text is plain and intelligible 
with reference to Maria, and that all applications of it to courtesans or others outside 
of the play are mischievous excescences.' Marsh seems fixed in the belief that the 
picture was hanging on the walls in Sir Toby's very presence. I can find nothing to 
warrant it. Barnett thinks that the allusion is, * probably, to Mary Ambr^e, who 
fought at the Siege of Ghent, in 1584,' and refers to Hudibras : * A bold virago, 
stout, and tall. As Joan of France, or English Mall.' (Part I, canto ii, line 367, 
where Grey asserts that this refers to *■ Mary Carleton, or, as she was more commonly 
distinguished, Kentish Moll, or the German Princess.' This RiTSON denies and 
says the reference is to Moll Cutpurse. ) Possibly, Barnett was misled by a note 
which first appeared, according to Furnivall, in the fourth edition of Percy's Reliqties^ 
edited by Percy's nephew. Lastly, Verity inclines to think that Moll Cutpurse is 
referred to, because ' a casual allusion like this may well have been inserted some 
time after \h^ first production of the play'; of course, this door of escape stands 
always open, but we should be war>' of using it. Steevens, in spite of the express 
reason given by Sir Toby why the picture should be curtained, suggested another, 
drawn from his own prurient imagination. I have but small belief that any partic- 
ular Mistress Mall is here referred to, and none at all, that, if there be one, it is 
Mary Frith, against whose claim chronology is fatal. It is almost inconceivable that, 
in * the fierce light that beats' upon that period, a Mistress Moll, familiarly enough 
known to be recognised in a passing allusion, could have escaped detection. When 
now-a-days we say *Jack Robinson,' do we refer to any particular John of that 
family?— Ed.] 

120. Carranto] The following extract is taken from a translation by Rye (p. 123) 

ACT I, sc. iii.] OR. WHA T YOU WILL 5 1 

My verie walke fliould be a ligge : I would not fo much 121 
as make water but in a Sinke-a-pace : What dooeft thou 

122. Sinke-a-pace] F,. cinque-pace 122. dooeji^ doft F^F^. 

Han. Sink-a-pace F^F^ et cet. 

of a very rare Spanish pamphlet in the British Museum, wherein is found an account 
of a Banquet and Entertainment given by James I. to the Constable of Castile, Juan 
Fernandez de Velasco, on Sunday, August 19, 1604 : 'After a little while the Prince 
[Henry] was commanded by his parents to dance a galliard, and they pointed out to 
him the lady who was to be his partner ; and this he did with much sprightliness and 
modesty, cutting several capers in the course of the dance. The Earl of Southampton 
then led out the Queen, and three other gentlemen their several partners, who all 
joined in dancing a brando, [What this is, I know not. It is not in Percival's 
Spanish Dict,^ 1622, nor in Florio's Worlde of IVordes, 1598. Murray {N. E. D,) 
refers brandon to Littr^, who gives it as the name of a kind of rustic dance, or rather 
race, with lighted wisps of straw, which is hardly conceivable at this present enter- 
tainment. — Ed.] . . . After this they began a galliard,- and in it a lady led out the 
Prince, who then led out another lady whom their Majesties pointed out to him. 
After this a brando was danced, and that being over, the Prince stood up to dance a 
correntay which he did very gracefully. The Earl of Southampton was now again 
the Queen's partner, and they went through the correnta likewise. Hereupon the 
ball ended.' — Naylor (p. 122) : The old English name was 'current traverse,* and 
Morley (1597) speaks of the Courant step as 'travising and running,' which would 
appear to connect the Italian word with curro. Sir John Davies ( 1 570-1626), in 
his poem Orchestra^ identifies Rounds, Corantos, Measures, and some other dances 
with Country Dances. That is, whatever the rhythm or speed of the actual time 
used, these variously named Country Dances could be performed to it. Sir Roger 
de Coverly, our typical English Country Dance, is in form almost the same as the 
Brawl, Coranto, Galliard, or Measure. A Courant by Frescobaldi (1591-1640) is 
in triple time. As for its ' step,' Davies says it is 'on a triple dactile foot,' ' close 
to the ground with sliding passages.' According to Sir Toby, it would be a quicker 
and gayer dance than the Galliard, for he compares the walk to church to the latter ; 
but the more light-hearted journey back to dinner he likens to the Coranto. The 
Jig would be even faster, for Sir Andrew's * very walk,' that is, his week-day gait, 
was to be 'a jig.' 

121. ligge] Sec Afuch Ado about Nothings II, i, 70, of this ed. — Naylor 
(p. 124) : The name comes from Giga (Geige), a sort of fiddle in use during the 
1 2th and 13th centuries. The oldest jigs are Scottish, and were * round dances' for 
a number of people. ... It was a lively dance. 

122. Hazlitt {Age of Elizabeth, p. 63) : The standard of delicacy varies at 
different periods, as it does in different countries, and is not a general test of 
superiority. The French, who pique themselves (and justly, in some particulars) 
on their quickness of tact and refinement of breeding, say and do things which we, 
a plainer and coarser people, could not think of without a blush. What would 
seem gross allusions to us at present, were without offence to our ancestors, and 
many things passed for jests with them, or matters of indifference, which would 
not now be endured. Refinement of language, however, does not keep pace with 
simplicity of manners. The severity of criticism exercised in our theatres towards 

52 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. iii. 

meane ? Is it a world to hide vertues in ? I did thinke by 123 

the excellent conflitution of thy legge, it was formM vn- 

der the ftarre of a Galliard. 125 

Andj I, 'tis ftrong, and it does indifferent well in a 

dam'd coloured ftocke. Shall we fit about fome Reuels ? 1 27 

12$. /Ainie] fwt /Atn/k Kovrc. paned coloured Nicholson ap. Cam. 

126. in «] in Warb. (misprint?) claret- coloured Joicey. 

12T. dam* d colour'd'\ damask-colour- \2*l, Jlocke'\ Jlocken F^F^, Rowe. 

ed Knt, Wh. i. flame-colour' d Rowe stocking Pope, + , Cap. stock Var. '78 

ii et cet. damson-colour' d Phelps ap. et seq. 
Hal. dove-coloured Anon. ap. Cam. fit'\ set Rowe ii et seq. 

some unfortunate straggling phrases in the old comedies, is but an ambiguous com- 
pliment to the immaculate purity of modem times. 

125. starre] See also Beatrice's reference {Much Ado, II, i, 319) to the dancing 
star under which she was bom. Deighton calls attention to the contempt with 
which Edmund {Lear, I, ii, 112) treats this 'excellent foppery of the world, that 
when we are sick in fortune, we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and 

127. dam'd colour'd stocke] Knight : • Stock* is stocking. We have ventured 
to read * damask-ooXoMred ' ; for it is evident that, if the word damask were written 
as pronounced rapidly, damask, it might easily be misprinted * dam'd.* In Dra3rton 
we have * the damask-coloured dove.* The name of the colour is derived from the 
damask rose. — Collier {Notes, etc., 172) : The Manuscript-Corrector informs us 
that this ought to be *</««-colour*d.* — Dyce {Few Notes, 75) : That Sir Andrew, a 
gallant of the first water, should ever dream of casing his leg in a ' ^^MM-coloured 
stock * is not to be supposed for a moment. The epithet flame-coloured was fre- 
quently applied to dress. Thus, / Hen. IV: I, ii, n, *a wench in flame-coloured 
taffeta.* — Collier (ed. ii) : It would have been more to the point if [Dyce] had 
produced some instance in which ' flame-coloured stocks * were mentioned ; such 
proof is still wanted, and were it forthcoming, all dispute would be at an end. — 
B. Nicholson {N.^ Qu. 1879, 5th, xi, 124) : Granted that * flame-coloured * was 
a common phrase, and twice used by Shakespeare, how does that justify the substi- 
tution ? There is no special circumstance requiring *■ flame-coloured,* nor any ductus 
liter arum, unless am be accounted such. Nor is there such a certainty of error as 
to require such a change. *Damn'd-colour*d* is an easily understood epithet, and 
there is nothing against it, beyond our ignorance of the use by any one of a similar 
phrase in English. . . . Why cannot Sir Andrew be allowed the imitative affectation 
of a word very likely to have been used, — even if it were uncommon, — among the 
fashion-mongers of the day? Pope [Rowe?] not improbably substituted ' flame- 
colour* d* as a more refined S3aionym. But it is not a synonym. Devils to this day 
are held to be not flame-coloured but black. ... I venture to think that dark or black 
nether garments were well fitted to show off a good leg, especially when in contrast 
with the bright and glittering colours then worn. Lastly, I would add that no one 
can doubt but that fashions and phrases were then as now freely imported from the 
Continent; and though we have not yet found < damn*d-coloured* in English, we 
can find it in French. Corresponding with my friend Mr Fumivall he turned up 
Cotgrave. There under * Couleur * and * Enfer* are to be found, Couleur d^enfer as 

ACTi,sc.iv.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 53 

To. What (hall we do elfe : were we not borne vnder 128 
Taurus ? 

And. Taurus? That fides and heart. 1 30 

To. No fir, it is leggs and thighes : let me fee thee ca- 
per. Ha, higher : ha, ha, excellent. Exeunt 132 

Scena Quarta. 

Enter Valentine yUnd Viola in mans attire. 2 

Val. If the Duke continue thefe fauours towards you 
CefariOj you are like to be much adu anc'd, he hath known 
you but three dayes, and already you are no ftranger. 5 

128. el/e :'\ else? Pope et scq. Theob. 

130. That'\ TkafsF^F^eistq. I. Scena Quarta] Scene V. 

132. [Sir And. dances. Dyce ii. Pope, + . 

Aa, excellent] ka ! — excellent The Palace. Rowe. 

much as Noir-brun enfumi*; * En/er, Cauleur d^ettfer, A dark and smoakie 
brown.' — R. M. Spence (/b.^ p. 204) : Shakespeare would never have made a vain 
coxcomb like Sir Andrew show the good taste to choose so unpretending a colour as 
black. By ' a dam*d coloured stocke * I understand checkered hose. To this day old 
people among the peasantry of Scotland speak of any checkered garment as being of 
the ' dam-brod,' Anglic'^ * draught-board/ pattern. [Does not dam-brod relate merely 
Xoform, without reference to colour? — Ed.] — W. A. Wright : It is by no means cer- 
tain what the true reading should be. In the dialogues given in Eliot's Fruits for the 
French (1593) p. 31, we find, * Show me a Peach colourd Netherstocke.* A bright 
colour of some kind was intended, and therefore the reference to [Cotgrave's] couleur 
d'*enfer is out of place. [Rowe's emendation has the largest following; but theiv 
there are eminent critics who dispute it. There is such a difference, however, both 
to the eye and to the ear, between ' dam'd ' and flame that, until some happier sub- 
stitute be found, I think the text should remain undisturbed ; and surely. Sir Andrew's 
character is not so exalted as to be seriously lowered by a little profanity. — Ed.] 

130. sides and heart] Johnson: Alluding to the medical astrology still pre- 
served in almanacks, which refers the affections of particular (>arts of the body to 
the predominance of particular constellations. — Douce (i, 85) : Both the knights 
are wrong in their astrology according to the almanacs of the time, which make 
Taurus govern the neck and throat. Their ignorance is perhaps intentional. — 
Rolfs : In that classic annual The Old Farmer's Almanac may still be seen the 
ancient astrological figure of the human body with lines radiating from its various 
parts to the symbols of the zodiacal signs. [This astrological figure still makes its 
appearance annually in other almanacs in this country besides The Old Farmer's. 
Douce says that perhaps Sir Toby's and Sir Andrew's ignorance was intentional, 
and B. Nicholson {^N. &• Qu, 1878, Sth, x, 283) actually proposed to substitute 
the correct signs. Sir Andrew's ignorance was genuine, but Sir Toby wanted merely 
a pretext for a coarse allusion. — Ed.] 


Vio. You either feare his humour, or my negligence, 6 

that you call in queftion the continuance of his loue. Is 
he inconstant fir, in his fauours. UaL No beleeue me. 
Enter Duke, Curio , and Attendants. 

Vio. I thanke you : heere comes the Count. lo 

Duke. Who faw Cefario hoa ? 

Vio. On your attendance my Lord heere. 

Du. Stand you a-while aloofe. CefariOj 
Thou knowfl no leffe, but all : I haue vnclafpM 
To thee rhe booke euen of my fecret foule. 1 5 

8. fauours.'\ favours? Ff. 13. [To Attend. Wh. ii. 

9. Enter...] Enter Duke, attended. a-while] awkiU F^F^, Rowc, + t 
(after line 10) Cap. Dyce, Cam. Theob. i, Han. Cap. Cam. Dtn. awhile 

10. Counf] Duke Rowe, + . Steev. Var. '21, Knt, Coll. Sta. Rife. 

11. hoa"] ^0 Cap. aloof e'\ aloof [Curio, etc retire. 

12. attendance'] cUtendants F^. Coll. MS. 

my Lord heere] here, my Lord 15. rhe] F,. 

K. Elze. 

6. humour] W. A. Wright : That is, caprice, fancy ; or, perhaps, simply dis- 
position ; as in ^ Hen. IV: II, iv, 256 : * Sirrah, what humour's the prince of?* 
[Inasmuch as Viola is here directly referring to Valentine's uncertainty as to the 
constancy of the Duke's favour, it seems to me that 'humour' must mean some- 
thing more than ' simply his disposition.' She asks inmiediately, ' is he inconstant 
in his favours?' I rather prefer the interpretation here of 'humour' as capricious- 
ness. — Ed.] 

7. that] For other instances where ' that ' is used for in that, see Abbott, § 284. 
9. As in stage-copies, the entrance of the Duke is here marked a little in advance 

of his appearance. Capell properly transferred this stage-direction to follow line 10. 

12. On your attendance] W. A. Wright : That is, in attendance upon you. 

14. no lesse, but all] Compare Oth. I, i, 137 : < with no worse nor better guard, 
But with a knaue.' See Abbott (§ 127) foro ther examples of ' but' in the sense 
of than after negative comparatives. Both in the quotation from Oth, and in the 
present line the comma of the Folio, before * but,' is not in accordance with modem 
punctuation. — Ed. 

14, 15. vnclasp'd . . . booke] Steevens : So, in / Hen. IV: I, iii, 188 : 
-•And now I will unclasp a secret book.' — Whiter, in his valuable criticisms 
founded on Locke's doctrine of The Association of Ideas y has gathered many exam- 
ples (pp. 108-115), including the present, of Shakespeare's fondness of metaphors 
•drawn from a book, its binding, its clasps, and its margins. Thus, Rom. 6r* Jul. 
I, iii, 81 : *Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face. . . . And what obscur'd 
in this fair volume lies Find written in the margent of his eyes. This precious 
book of love, this unbound lover. . . . That book in man3r's eyes doth share 
the glory ; That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.' Again, lb. Ill, ii, 83 
(where Juliet speaking of Romeo, says) : ' Was ever book containing such vile 
-matter So fairly bound.' Thus, R. of L. loi : ' But she, that never coped with 
stranger eyes. ... Nor read the subtle-shining secrecies Writ in the glassy mar-] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 55 

Therefore good youth, addreffe thy gate vnto her, 16 

Be not deniMe acceffe, (land at her doores, 
And tell them, there thy fixed foot (hall grow 
Till thou haue audience. 

Uio. Sure my Noble Lord, 20 

If (he be fo abandoned to her forrow 
As it is fpoke, (he neuer will admit me. 

Duj Be clamorous, and leape all ciuill bounds. 
Rather then make vnprofited retume, 

Vio. Say I do fpeake with her (my Lord)what then ? 25 

Du. O then, vnfold the pafsion of my loue, 
Surprize her with difcourfe of my deere faith ; 
It (hall become thee well to aft my woes : 
She will attend it better in thy youth. 
Then in a Nuntio's of more graue afpeft. 30 

16. gaUl gait Cap. Rowe» Pope, Mai. Cam. Glo. Wh. ii. 

30. NutUu^s'] F,Fj. NunMs F^, nuntio Cap. nuncio Theob. et cet. 

gents of such books.' Again, Much Ado, I, i, 308 : < Thou wilt be like a loyer 
presently And tire the hearer with a book of words.' lb, line 325 : ' And in her 
bosom 1*11 unclasp my heart.* Again, Tro. dr* Cress. IV, v, 60 : * That give accost- 
ing welcome ere it comes, And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts To every 
ticklish reader.' Again, Lovers Lab. L. IV, ii, 113: < Study his bias leaves and 
makes his book thine eyes.* Mid. N. D. II, iii, 120: 'Reason . . . leads me to 
your eyes, where I o*erlook Love*s stories written in love*s richest book.* Idng 
John^ II, ii, 484 : < If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, Can in this book 
of beauty read, " I love.** * Whiter* s list does not pretend to be at all complete ; 
Bartlett's Concordance will doubtless enlarge it Whiter* s main purpose is to show 
that there was, in Shakespeare's mind, some subtle association, whatever might be its 
strange cause, between a book and love and the eye of beauty. — Ed. 

17. Be not deni'de] Delius : The Duke is thinking of Valentine* s failure to 
gain admittance. 

18. fixed foot] Viola obeys this injunction of the Duke, when she tells Malvolio 
(I, V, 148) that she will < stand at the door like a Sheriffs post.*— Ed. 

22. As it is spoke] See Abbott (§200, p. 134) for other examples of this 
phrase used for */i> said. 

29. attend it] Abbott (§ 200, p. 134) : In some cases, as in [the present], the 
derivation may explain the transitive use. 

30. Nuntio's] Delius : Perhaps this stands for Nuntius ; just as the Folio has 
'Antonio's' for Antonius. — W. A. Wright: Theobald reads 'nuntio,' but this 
would require to be preceded by * in thee ' instead of * in thy youth.' Delius' s sup- 
position, Nuntius^ can scarcely be. The construction is not strictly granmiatical, but 
is according to the sense of the passage, as if the Duke had said, * She will attend 
it better in thy youthful person than in that of a nuncio of more grave appearance.' 

30. aspect] The accent is uniformly on the last syllable in Shakespeare. See 

56 TWELFE NIGHT [act I. sc. iv. 

Via. I thinke not fo, my Lord. 31 

Du. Deere Lad, beleeue it ; 
For they fhall yet belye thy happy yeeres, 
That fay thou art a man : Dianas lip 

Is not more fmooth, and rubious : thy fmall pipe 35 

Is as the maidens organ, flirill, and found, 
And all is femblatiue a womans part. 
I know thy conftellation is right apt 
For this affayre : fome foure or fiue attend him, 
All if you will : for I my felfe am bed 40 

When lead in companie : profper well in this, 

33. belye\ be-ly F^. conj. 

34. Dianas] F,. Dianaes F^F^. yj. femblatiue a] sembUUive — a Johns. 
36. and found^ in sound Wh. Dyce semblcUive to a Ktly. 

iiy iii, Ktly, Huds. of sound Huds. 

Abbott (§ 490) for a list of words similarly accented on the last syllable, which are 
now accented on the first. 

33. yet] By this particle, the idea is conveyed that Viola's extremely youthful 
appearance will last for many a day to come. — Ed. 

34. Dianas] Diana's lip was never kissed by man, and is, therefore, a type of 
the choicest purity. — Ed. 

36. and sound] R. G. White (ed. i) : The error * and sound* for * wi sound,' 
has been hitherto most strangely left uncorrected. The Duke has no occasion to 
remark upon the soundness of Viola's voice ; but rather the contrary. [This < con- 
trary ' I do not understand. — Ed.] He tells her that the sound of her voice is shrill, 
like that of a maiden's. — Dyce (ed. ii) : Mr W. N. Lettsom thinks the Folio is 
right, understanding * sound' to mean 'clear, not cracked.' — The Cowden- 
Clarkes : They who alter this to ' shrill in sound ' surely impair the fidl 
meaning of the sentence. To our thinking, the Duke is intended to say, <Thy 
slender voice is like a maiden's voice, high in key and at the same time uncracked.' 
A'boy's voice is < shrill,' high, of treble quality, but not ' sound ' or uncracked ; while 
a girl's is of the same shrillness, or high pitch, and yet perfectly < sound,' or pure in 
tone. — W. A. Wright : If 'and sound' be the true reading, 'sound' must signify 
* not cracked,' as Hamlet (II, ii, 448) salutes the boy, who among the players acted 
the woman's part, with, * Pray God, your voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, be 
not cracked within the ring.' [Unquestionably, the Folio is right. There was no 
indication whatever of manhood in the page's happy years. Is it not clear, that the 
Duke is proving for his own satisfaction that there is no risk in sending, as his mes- 
senger to Olivia, a boy of as dangerous a beauty as Viola's? — Ed.] 

37. is] TiESSEN (Arckiv f d. n. Spr.^ 1877, Iviii, 14) : Some editions have its; 
[I have never seen them. — Ed.] possibly we should read tAy. 

37. semblatiue] W. A. Wright : That is, resembling, like. A word of Shake- 
speare's coinage. 

37. a womans part] Johnson : That is, thy proper part in a play would be a 
woman's. Women were then personated by boys. 

38. constellation] See I, iii, 125. 

ACTi.sciv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 57 

And thou (halt liue as freely as thy Lord, 42 

To call his fortunes thine. 

Uio, He do my beft 
To woe your Lady : yet a barrefull ftrife, 45 

Who ere I woe, my felfe would be his wife. Exeunt. 

45, 46. woe^ waoe F^Fj. woo F^. O barful Coll. ii, iii (MS), a baneful 

45. Lady:'\ lady; [Exit Duke.] Johns. Gould, a woeful Daniel ap. Cam. 

45» 46. yet,„wife'] [Aside] Cap. Mai. 46. IVho ere'] F,. who ^re F^F^. 

ctseq. W4<>-^VrRowe, + . ff^tf^^rCap.Steev. 

45. a barrefull] a barful F^, Rowe, Var. *2I. 
Johns. Var. * 2 1 . O baneful Pope, Han. 

42. as freely as thy LrOrd] For many other examples of the transposition of 
phrases (here, the present phrase should follow line 43), see Walker (Cril. i, 160) 
and Abbott, § 419 a. See, also, * This is a deere Manakin to you Sir Toby.* — III, 
ii, 54. 

45. a barrefull strife] Steevens : That is, a contest full of impediments. P. A. 
Daniel (p. 42) would read <yet (Ah ! barful strife !).' 

46. Exeunt.] Spedding {New Sh. Soc. Trans,, 1877-9, P- 24) : The division of 
the Acts in Twelfth Night is of less importance than in King Lear and Much Ado 
about Nothing ; for the movement of the piece is so light and rapid, and the several 
actions mix so naturally, without perplexing or confusing each other, that if it were 
played from beginning to end without any pause at all, the spectator would feel 
no harshness. Nevertheless, though the inter-Acts might in that case be omitted 
altogether without injuring the dramatic effect, the effect is materially injured on two 
occasions by the interposition of them in the wrong place. 

At the end of the first Act Malvolio is ordered to run after Cesario with Olivia's 
ring ; in the second Scene of the second Act he has but just overtaken him. * Were 
you not even now,* he says, * with the Countess Olivia ?* * Even now. Sir ' (she 
answers), <on a moderate pace I have arrived but hither.' Here, therefore, the 
pause is worse than useless. It impedes the action, and turns a light and swift 
movement into a slow and heavy one. 

Again, at the end of the third Act, Sir Andrew Aguecheek runs after Cesario 
(who has just left the stage) to beat him ; Sir Toby and Fabian following to see the 
event. At the beginning of the fourth, they are all where they were. Sir Andrew's 
valour is still warm ; he meets Sebastian, mistakes him for Cesario, and strikes. 
Here again the pause is not merely unnecessary ; it interrupts what was evidently 
meant for a continuous and rapid action, and so spoils the fun. 

The first of these defects might be sufficiently removed by continuing the first Act 
to the end of what is now the second scene of the second. The other by continuing 
the third Act to the end of what is now the first scene of the fourth. But such an 
arrangement would leave the fourth Act so extremely short that it cannot be accepted 
for the true one. 

I have little doubt that the first Act was meant to end with the fourth scene, — the 
scene between the Duke and Viola: 'Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife'; 
the second with Viola's soliloquy upon receiving Olivia's ring, II, ii, 43. The third 
might end where, according to the received arrangement, the second does ; only that 
the underplot would in that case become rather too prominent, and the main action 

S8 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. iv. 

46. Exeunt.] 
stand still too long. To avoid this, I would not have the curtain fall till after the 
second interview between Olivia and Viola, in which Olivia declares her passion. 

The fourth Act may end where it now does, with the contract between Olivia and 
Sebastian ; and the fifth will remain as it is. 

I am not aware of any objection that can be made to this arrangement, or of any 
point which requires further explanation. Imagine the play properly represented 
(I say properly ; for on the stage it is always so deformed with burlesque that no 
true judgement can be made of it from seeing it acted), with the divisions which I 
have proposed, and I think it will be felt that the arrangement recommends itself. 
... I have seldom seen a piece acted for the first time, however bad the acting, and 
however familiar I had been with the play on paper, without seeing much of it in a 
new light and with more vivid effect. And in reading these things, though we may 
piece out the actor's imperfections with our thoughts as much as we please, imagining 
everything presented to our mind to seem as real and natural as the thing itself would 
seem, — ^real kings and queens, real genUemen and ladies, real soldiers and real fight- 
ing, — we must not forget that we are supposed to be witnessing a succession of scenes 
passed within our sight and hearing, and so arranged to produce their effect upon 
the imagination under that condition. Without a clear perception of the periods of 
action and repose, we cannot enjoy the full benefit of such arrangement ; and there- 
fore, if we wish to have complete enjoyment of Shakespeare's art, we must alwajrs 
take notice of the points which mark these periods, — namely, the intervals between 
the Acts. [Spedding* s arrangement is, therefore, as follows : — 

First Act =1, i — iv. 

Second Act = I, v; II, i, ii. 

Third Act = II, iii— v ; III, i. 

Fourth Act ■= III, ii — ^iv ; IV, i — iii. 

Fifth Act =V; ad fin. 
Sir Henry Irving' s acting- version, according to F. A. Marshall, divides, and 
combines the Acts and Scenes as follows : — 

First Act = I, i — iv. 

Second Act = I, v; II, ii, II, iii. 

Third Act =11, iv, II, i; II, v, III, i. 

Fourth Act =111, iii. III, ii; III, iv; IV, i, ii. 

Fifth Act = IV, iii; ad fin. 
See Marshall's notes at the beginning of the respective Scenes. — Ed.] 


Scena Quinta. 

Enter Maria^and Clowne. 
Ma. Nay, either tell me where thou haft bin, or I will 
not open my lippes fo wide as a bri&le may enter, in way 

I. Scene VI. Popc, + . Act II, i, 3. bin\ F,F,. bemY^. 

Spcdding. 4. bHfsle\ bristle Rowe. 

Olivia's House. Rowe. 

2. Clowne] Douce (i, 118) : The Clown in this play is a domestic or hired fool, 
in the service of Olivia. He is specifically termed * an allowed fool,' and * Feste, the 
jester, a fool that the lady Olivia's father took much delight in.' Malvolio likewise 
speaks of him as ' a set fool.' Of his dress it is impossible to speak correctly. If 
the fool's expression, * I will [did] impeticoat thy gratility,' be the original language, 
he must have been habited accordingly. Mr Ritson has asserted that he has neither 
coxcomb nor bauble, deducing his argimient from the want of any allusion to them. 
Yet such an omission may be a very fallacious guide in judging of the habit of this 
character on the stage. It must, however, be admitted that where this happens 
there can be no clue as to the precise manner in which the fool was dressed. 
[Douce' s caution is justified by some of the statements in his own excellent essay 
on Clowns and Fools ^ vol. ii, p. 325, — where, speaking of their costume, he says, 
' We may suppose that the same variety of dress was observed on the stage which 
we know to have actually prevailed in common life. The fools however, did not 
always appear in a discriminative habit, and some of their portraits still remaining 
confirm this observation. A very fine painting by Holbein, in Kensington Palace, 
represents Will Somers, the Fool of Henry VIII. in a common dress. ... In the 
celebrated picture of Sir Thomas More's family, by Holbein, Patenson, the Fool, 
is not distinguished by any peculiarity of dress ; and, in one instance at least, the 
same remark applies to Archy, the Fool of James I.' Wherefore, on Douce' s own 
showing, it must be acknowledged that Ritson was probably right in his assertion 
that Feste neither wore a coxcomb nor carried a bauble, and that in all likelihood 
there was no distinction in dress between him and, say, Fabian. For my own part, 
I am sure from what we learn of Feste, that he was dressed with nicest care and 
was quite point-device in his apparel. Douce has given (ii, 311) what he pro- 
nounces * the picture of a real hireling or artificial fool,* — the class to which Feste, 
as he says, belongs ; it is drawn from Lodge's Wits Miserie ; as the passage has 
been copied and adopted by subsequent editors of Shakespeare, it is proper to 
insert it here. But I am convinced that Lodge's picture is no picture of a Fool at 
all, and that when Lodge speaks of a 'jeaster' he means a mere joker, a man of 
vulgar and uproariously high spirits, and does not refer at all to a professional Fool. 
It is to be remembered that Lodge's tract is written in an extremely exaggerated style. 
The extract is as follows : * The second fiend of this race is Immoderate and Dis- 
ORDINATE loY, and he became incorporate in the bodie of a ieaster, this fellow in 
person is comely, in apparell courtly, but in behauiour a very ape, and no man ; his 
studie is to coine bitter leasts, or to show antique motions, or to sing baudie sonnets 
and ballads : give him a little wine in his head, he is continually Bearing and making 

6o TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. v. 

of thy excufe : my Lady will hang thee for thy abfence. 5 

Clo, Let her hang me : hee that is well hang^de in this 
world, needs to feare no colours. 7 

7. needsto\needsY^^yYi'om^^-\-t^9X, 7. colours'\ collars Sxion, v^, (jam., 
' 73/78, Ran. 

of mouthes : he laughes intemperately at euery litle occasion, and dances about the 
house, leaps over tables, out-skips mens heads, trips vp his companions heeles, bums 
Sacke with a candle, and hath all the feats of a Lord of misrule in the countrie : feed 
him in his humor, you shall haue his heart, in meere kindnesse he will hug you in 
his armes, kisse you on the cheeke, and rapping out an horrible oth, crie Gods Soule 
Tum [Lodge's name was Thomas. — Ed.] I loue you, you knowmypoore heart, 
come to my chamber for a pipe of Tabacco, there Hues not a man in this world that 
I more honor ; In these ceremonies you shall know his courting, and it is a speciall 
marke of him at the table, he sits and makes faces : keep not this fellow company, 
for in iugling with him your Wardropes shall be wasted, your credits crackt, your 
crownes consumed, and time (the most precious riches of the world) vtterly lost.' — 
p. 84, ed. Hunterian Club. It is difficult to see how Douce or Staunton could have 
been misled into the belief that this description, possibly drawn from life, referred 
or applied to professional Fools. — Ed. 

5. hang thee] The punishment for Fools, as we all know, was whipping, (Lear's 
Fool was threatened with it,) possibly, in obedience to the Biblical Proverb, 'a 
rod is for the back of fools.' It is incredible that Olivia should possess the power 
of life and death over her servant. We must, therefore, believe either that * hang ' 
does not here mean *■ sus. per col.,' but some tem|x>rary punishment whereof the sig- 
nification is now lost to us (which is improbable), or that it is still in keeping with 
Maria's character to indulge, with the Fool, in this playful exaggeration. This 
willingness to intercede for him after his pranks, shows how fond she was of him — 
and who could help being so ? — Ed. 

7. feare no colours] Steevens : This expression occurs frequently in the old 
plays. Thus, Jonson's Sejanus^ * And those [ladies] .<that would be [fair], physic 
soon can make them: For those that are, their beauties fear no colours.' [I, ii, 
p. 27, ed. Gifford.] Again, Porter's Two Angry Women of Abington^ 1599, *Are 
ye disposed, sir? Nicholas. Yes, indeed, I fear no colours; change sides, Richard.' 
[p. 359, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley.] — Nares : Probably at first a military expression, 
to fear no enemy. So Shakespeare derives it, and though the passage be comic, it is 
likely to be right. — Dyce {Gloss.) quotes this, and this only, in explanation of the 
phrase. — Knight : It probably meant, I fear no deceptions. Holofemes says, 
*I do fear colourable colours.* — Love's Lad. L. IV, ii, 154. — Halliwell quotes 
Cotgrave : ^Aduentureux. Hazardous, aduenturous ; that feares no colours,' which 
repeats the phrase, but hardly advances our knowledge of its derivation. He 
also quotes, <and then pell mell, all alone haue amongst them, if there were 
ten thousand of them. Cameades. Faith well said, I perceiue thou fearst no 
colours.' — Nashe's Hatu With you to Saffron- Walden, 1596, [p. 46, ed. Grosart. 
This is the earliest instance of the phrase given by Murray, N. E. D.\ albeit Halli- 
well furnishes one from The Trumpet of Fame by H. R. 1595, *Then fear no 
colours, set the chance on Christ! He is your load-star, God of |x>wer highest' 
It is more likely that there is a misprint in Halliwell' s date than that Murray should 
have overlooked it. The many post-Shakespearian examples further given by Halli- 

ACTi,sc.v.] 0R% WHAT YOU WILL 6 1 

Ma. Make that good. 8 

Clo, He fliall fee none to feare. 

Ma, A good lenton anfwer : I can tell thee where ^ lo 

faying was borne, of I feare no coloufs. 

Clo. Where good miftris Mary ? 

Ma. In the warrs, & that may you be bolde to fay in 
your foolerie. 

Clo. Well, God giue them wifedome that haue it : & 15 

thofe that are fooles, let them vfe their talents. 

Ma. Yet you will be hanged for being fo long abfent, 
or to be tum'd away : is not that as good as a hanging to 
you ? 19 

10. lfnton'\ Lenton F^. ienien Rowe. turned away, Mai. Wh. Coll. ii, Cam. 

15. it] U not Gom\^ Glo. Rife, Dtn. absent: or, to be 

17, 18. abfent, or to be turtC d away :\ turned away; Steev. Var. *2I, Knt, 
ah/ent, or be turned away : F,, Rowe Coll. i, iii, Hal. absent; or,to be turned 
ii,+ ,Cap.Var, Ran. abfent, or be turned away, — Dyce, Sta. Ktly, Huds. 
arway, F^F^, Rowe i. absent ; or, to be 18. not that] not this Rowe i. 

well are hardly of moment]. — Staunton : The allusion is lost to us, here and in 
other instances, of this ' skipping dialogue.* — ^W. A. Wright : There is, of course, a 
pun upon ' colours * and collars, as we Bnd elsewhere upon < dolours ' and dollars, 
[There is the same pun upon * colours ' and collars, and the same phrase, * fear no 
colours,' in 2 Hen, IV: V, v, 91. In all likelihood the phrase was a ' winged word ' 
long before Nashe used it in his farrago of low abuse ; and so old by Maria's time 
that she thought it needful to explain its origin to the Qown. — Ed.] 

10. lenton] Johnson : A lean, or as we now call it, a dry answer. — Steevens : 
Surely, it rather means a short and spare one, like the commons in Lent. So, in 
Hamlet^ II, ii, 329, < if you delight not in man, what lenten entertainment the 
players shall receive from you.* [Cotgrave : ^Amoreux de Quaresme. A Lenten 
louer; a bashfuU, modest, or maidenly, woer.'] 

11. of] W. A. Wright : Of is used to connect words or phrases in apposition, 
the saying here being * I fear no colours.* So in Coriol. II, i, 32, * a very little thief 
of occasion,* where the occasion is the thief. 

16. talents] Nares (quoted by Halliwell) : Heaven give real wisdom to those 
that are called wise, and a discreet use of their talents to fools or jesters. — Halli- 
well : Perhaps, however, the Clown is perpetrating a joke on *■ talents * and talons^ 
a quibble which occurs with greater distinctness in Levis Lab, L, [IV, ii, 65 : < If 
a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent * ; where, indeed, the quib- 
ble is so distinct that it is not easy to see wherein it is applicable to the present 
passage. — Ed.] — Deighton : There seems to be here a profane allusion to the 
parable of the talents, Matthew, xzv. [Very doubtful. — Ed.] 

18. or to be] W. A. Wright : I am not sure that the punctuation of Malone, 
now generally followed, is right. The insertion of * to ' before the second of two 
infinitives connected with the same auxiliary verb is very common, and the construc- 
tion here appears to be the same as that in As You Like It, V, iv, 25, 26 : ' Keepe 
yoor word, Phebe, that you*/ marrie me. Or else refusing me, to wed this shepheard.* 

62 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. v. 

Clo. Many a good hangings preuents a bad marriage : 20 

and for turning away^Iet fummer beare it out. 

20. Many\ Marry Theob. Warb. 21. let fummer beare\ leVssummer- 

Johos. Var. ' 73, ' 78, Ran. sauU Gould. 

It might be maintained that in this instance * to wed * is in apposition to * word ' ; bat 
this cannot be the explanation in PericleSy II, v, 17 : *• She tells me here, she*// wed 
the stranger knight, Or never more to view nor day nor light.' The following instances 
are from the Prayer-book Version of the Psalms : < Let their habitation be void : and 
no man to dwell in their tents,' Ixix, 26. < That we should not hide them . . . but to 
shew . . ./ Ixxviii, 4. 'That they might put tlieir trust in God ; and not to forget 
the works of God, but to keep his commandments ; and not to be as their forefath- 
ers,' etc., Ixxviii, 8, 9. [See notes in this ed. on the quotation above, from As You 
Like It. Also, on lb. III, ii, 152, 153 : *• Heauen would that she these gifts should 
haue, and I to live and die her slaue.' See, too, Abbott, § 416. — Ed.] 

20. Many . . . marriage] Grey (i, 225) : The story is well known, of a crim- 
inal, whose life was begged by a female, in case he would marry her. Who, upon 
viewing his intended bride, when upon the cart, and ready to be turn'd off, all he 
said upon the occasion was, < drive on, carter.' [This story is told with apparent 
seriousness by Dr A. Schmidt, in the notes to his translation of the present play. 
It is a little surprising that in none of the German translations is this line rendered 
literally ; the gentle fun in extolling the providential character of good hangings in 
preventing bad marriages is lost in the statement of a dry fact : *• Gut geh&ngt ist 
besser als schlecht verheirathet.' — Ed.] — Innes : Montaigne has two stories of a 
Picard and a Dane, who were going to be executed, and were each offered a reprieve 
on condition of marrying a girl who in one case was lame and in the other plain. In 
each case the offer was declined. The stories may have been common property ; 
Florio's translation of Montaigne was not published till after this play was produced. 
[Montaigne's story of a Picard is in Manningham's Diary ^ p. 102. — Ed.] 

21. turning away] Steevens states that he found the following observation 
among some papers of * the late Dr Letherland ' : < This seems to be a pun from the 
nearness in the pronunciation of turning away and turning of whey,'' [The name 
of the author of this interpretation may be spelled ' Letherland,' but it is to be strongly 
suspected that it was y^xonoMnzeA Steevens. — Ed.] Steevens then continues: It is 
common for unsettled and vagrant serving-men to grow negligent of their business 
towards summer ; and the sense of the passage is : * If I am turned away, the advan- 
tages of the approaching summer will bear out, or support all the inconveniences of 
dismission ; for I shall find employment in every field, and lodging under every 
hedge.'— William H. Smith {N. <Sr» Qu. 1859, 2nd, vii, 337) : 'Turning away' 
should be pronounced 'turning aw-ay' — i.e. 'turning o^ hay.'' [***God bless 
me !" said my uncle Toby.' — Ed.] — ^JoHN Addis, Jun. {N. &* Qu. 1867, 3rd, xi, 
252): The words in their plain sense mean that in summer a homeless person 
suffers fewer hardships than at other seasons. Accordant with this view I subjoin 
a passage from the Interlude of Jacke Jugler : * I neuer vse to rune awaye in wynter 
nor in vere But all wayes in suche tyme and season of the yere When honye lyeth in 
the hiues of Bees And all maner frute falleth from the trees As Apples, Nuttes, 
Peres, and plummes also Wherby a boye maye line a brod a moneth or two.* [E. ii, 
versoy Ashbee's Facsimile.] — W. A. Wright : But perhaps the Clown, having been 


Ma, You are refolute then ? 22 

Clo. Not fo neyther, but I am refoluM on two points 
Ma. That if one breake,the other will hold: or if both 

breake,your gaskins fall. 25 

Clo, Apt in good faith, very apt : well go thy way, if 

(ir Toby would leaue drinking, thou wert as witty a piece 

oi Eues flefh,as any in Illyria. 

Ma. Peace you rogue, no more o' that: here comes my 

Lady : make your excufe wifely, you were beft. 30 

22. You] Your F,. 26. very] vety Fj. 
25. gaskins] gaskings F^, Rowe, 28. in] Om. Rowe i. 

Pope. 30. [Exit. Pope et seq. 

frequently threatened with dismissal, simply means. Wait till summer comes, and see 
if it be true. 

23. points] Blackstone : * Points ' were metal hooks, fastened to the hose or 
breeches, (which then had no opening or buttons,) and going into straps or eyes 
fixed to the doublet, and thereby keeping the hose from falling down. — Steevens i 
So in / Hen, IV: II, iv, 238 : * Fahtaff. Their points being broken — Poins. Down 
feU their hose.* Again, Ant. 6r* Chop, III, xiii, 157 : <To flatter Caesar, would you 
mingle eyes With one that ties his points?* [Blackstone* s definition of 'point* 
appears in the Var. of 182 1, and may be therefore supposed to have been approved 
by Steevens, Malone, and Reed ; yet I think it is hardly correct. *■ Points * are 
always spoken of as trussed y or tied ; it is not easy to see how ' metal hooks * could 
ever have been tied. Over the shirt, our ancestors wore a tight vest or doublet, 
which might or might not have sleeves, and is, in fact, the progenitor of our modem 
waistcoat ; from its lower edge depended a number of strings or laces (how many, 
I do not know), and these strings had metal points, like our modem shoe-laces ; 
these points it was which gave the name to the strings. There were corresponding 
points on the slops or breeches, or hose, or, as Maria here calls them, the ' gaskins. * 
When the points on the doublet and the points on the hose were tmssed or tied, the 
mad was dressed, and needed but his cloak, his boots, and his girdle to jet it abroad. 

25. gaskins] Bradley (N, E. D) : Of uncertain origin ; perhaps due to a false 
analysis of Galligaskin, to which the 'gallant gaskins* of the quotation [from 
G. Harvey, see infra] comes close in point of sound. On the other hand, as Cot- 
grave explains French gr'igues by * wide slops, Gregs, Gallogascoines, Venetians ; a 
great Gascon or Spanish hose,* it seems possible that such hose were actually worn in 
Gascony ; if so, this word may have been a special use of Gascon, and have existed 
earlier than galligaskin. A kind of breech or hose. Chiefly plural. G. Harvey 
(1573) LetterdA (Camden) 6: * His oun gai gallant gaskins, his kut dublets, his 
staring hare.' 

27, 28. thou wert . . . Illyria] Does not the Clown pretend to whisper this in 
Maria* s ear ? — Ed. 

30. you were best] W. A. Wright : That is, it were best for you. Originally 
the pronoun in this phrase was in the dative case, but by the time of Shakespeare it 
had come to be regarded as the nominative. Similarly, the phrase ' if you please * 

64 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. v. 

Enter Lady Oliuiuy with Maluolio. 3 1 

Clo. Wit,and't be thy will, put me into good fooling : 
thofe wits that thinke they haue thee, doe very oft proue 
fooles : and I that am fure I lacke thee, may paHe for a 
wife man. For what faies QuinapaluSj Better a witty foole, 35 

then a foolifli wit. God bleffe thee Lady. 

OL Take the foole away. 

Clo. Do you not heare fellowes,take away the Ladie. 

OL Go too,y'are a dry foole : He no more of you:be- 39 

31. Scene VII. Pope, + . Johns. Var. '73. 

Enter...] After ^footijh wit^^ line 35. Quinapalus,] Quiftapalus? Han. 

36, Dyce, Cam. Sta. Glo. Rife, Huds. Cap. et seq. 

Dtn. 38. fellowes,'\ felkrvos? Theob. ii. et 

32. andT^ anU Han. Cap. Var. *2I, seq. 

Coll. Wh. Dyce, Cam. Rife. 39- y«^^] Ff, Rowe, + , Wh. u. 

good^ a good Theob. ii, Warb. you're Cap. et cet. 

was originally * if it please you,' the pronoun being in the dative. [See < she were 
better,' II, ii, 22 ; * your Ladyship were best,' III, iv, 13 ; or, if need be, Abbott, 
§§ 230, 352. Or As You Like It, I, i, 143 ; Mid, N, D, I, ii, 5 ; Wini, Taie, v, 
ii, 132 ; all of this ed. — Ed.] 

31. Enter . . . Maluolio] Br. Nicholson (N, &* Qu, 1892, 8th, i, 370) : 
This stage-direction has been generally followed down to the last Cambridge Edi- 
tion. Staunton, however, gave, more correctly, *Enter Olivia, Malvolio, ami 
AtUndantSy for the Clown says, line 38, ' Do you not hear, fellows ' ; and again, 
line 69, 'Take away the fool, gentlemen.' But these very passages show that even 
this stage-direction is insufficient, for in our day we naturally expect that a lady will 
be accompanied only by female attendants. Olivia, however, was a peeress in her 
own right, and would be attended by a retinue, or guard, of armed gentlemen servi- 
tors. Shakespeare here, true to the custom of his times, and also that he might at 
once set before his spectators, — the full rank of Olivia and the fact that the Duke 
was in no way demeaning himself in his love, — the absurd vanity of Malvolio that 
is to be hereafter depicted, — and the great good fortune of Sebastian, — provides that 
Olivia's Brst entrance should be made in her usual state, attended both by her women 
and her armed retainers ; Malvolio taking his place, not as her confidential friend, 
but simply as the steward of her household. ... A note somewhat to the effect 
I have spoken of being made, the direction might run : ^ Enter Olivia in state^ with 
Attendants, female and male, Malvolio among the latter* [Nicholson possibly 
overlooked Capell's edition, where the stage-direction implies, I think, what Nichol- 
son, with much reason, has urged : * Enter Olivia, attended, and Malvolio.' — Ed.] 

35. Quinapalus] One of the leaders of the Vapians when they passed the 
equinoctial of Queubus. — Ed. 

35> 3^* Better . . . wit] Johnson : Hall, in his Chronicle, speaking of the 
death of Sir Thomas More, says that, ' he knows not whether to call him a foolish 
wise man, or a wise foolish man.' [Be it not forgotten that ' witty ' is not here used 
in its modem sense. — Ed.] 

39. dry] See I, iu, 74. 

ACTI. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 65 

fides you grow dif-honeft. 40 

Clo. Two faults Madona,that drinke & good counfell 
wil amend : for giue the dry foole drink, then is the foole 
not dry : bid the difhoneft man mend himfelf,if he mend, 
he is no longer difhoneft ; if hee cannot, let the Botcher 
mend him : any thing that's mended, is but patch'd:vertu 45 

that tranfgreffes, is but patcht witli fmne, and fin that a- 
mends, is but patcht with vertue. If that this fimple 
Sillogifme will ferue, fo : if it will not, what remedy ? 48 

40. dif-fumej{\ F,. Ran. Mai. ct seq. 

41. Afadona"] Madonna Var. '78, 

39. lie no more of you] See 1, iii, 100. 

40. dis-honest] Rann : That is» indecent. Schmidt gives these additional 
examples of the use of the word in this same sense : In Merry IViveSf III, iii, 196, 
Mrs Page, speaking of Falstaflf, says, < Hang him, dishonest rascal ' ; and again she 
applies the same adjective to him in IV, ii, 104 : < Hang him, dishonest varlet.' 
Again, Hen. V: I, ii, 49 : * Who, holding in disdain the German women For some 
dishonest manner in their life, Establish' d then this law.' Of course, in all cases the 
context must decide the meaning. In III, iv, 387, Sir Toby uses * dishonest' in its 
ordinary sense, dishonourable. W. A. Wright calls attention to the use of ' honest* 
in the sense of virtuous in Hamlet's interview with Ophelia, III, i, 103 and 123: 
* Are you honest ?' * 1 am myself indifferent honest.' 

41. Madona] Madonna, mistres, mistres mine, madam. Also taken for our 
ladic.— Florio, Worlde of IVordes, 1 598. 

42. 43. dry . . . dishonest] In thus interpreting these two words in a sense 
different from that in which Olivia had just used them, Feste proves his right to be 
the Countess's 'corrupter of words.' — Ed. 

44. Botcher] *BoTCHAREof olde thinges. Resartor^ — Promp. Parv. (where, in 
a foot-note, Way quotes from Palsgrave : * to botche, or bungyll a garment as he dothe 
that is nat a perfyte workeman,/a/r^i//7/^r.' [I suppose a botcher held the same 
relation to a tailor that a cobbler holds to a shoemaker. — Ed.] 

45. patch'd] Malone : Alluding to the patched ox particoloured garment of the 
fool. [See line 2 above, where Feste* s dress is discussed. — Ed.] 

48. Sillogisme] Ruggles (p. 35) : The Clown's whimsical wit invests itself in 
the forms of logic. He is the logician of the play, — * a corrupter of words.* His 
more elaborate witticisms are ailments that lack but little of regular syllogistic 
form. — HuTSON {Southern Maga. 1875, May, p. 483) : The logical forms are sound 
enough, whatever may be said of their fruit ; and in their formal statement the 
propositions run thus : — 

Major Premiss — All mended things are patched things ; 

Minor Premiss — Broken virtue is virtue sin -mended ; 

Conclusion — Therefore broken virtue is sin-patched. 
This is the categorical form ; now let us put the other proposition into the con- 
ditional : — 

Major Premis — If sin amends, then sin is mended ; 

Minor Premis — But mended things are patched things ; 
Conclusion — Then sin is patched. 


66 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. v. 

As there is no true Cuckold but calamity, fo beauties a 

flower ; The Lady bad take away the foole, therefore I 50 

fay againe,take her away. 

OL Sir, I bad them take away you. 

Clo, Mifprifion in the higheft degree. Lady, CucuUus 53 

49. Cuckold^ counsellor Han. dis- 49. beauties] beauties F,. beauty* s 

honour Huds. ^3^4* 

The unexpressed fact, upon which both syllogisms rest, is, of course, that human 
nature is neither absolutely good nor absolutely bad ; that the man of virtue some- 
times sins, and the man of sin sometimes amends ; and hence, whether virtue or sin 
be present in any, it must needs be patched with its opposite. That the whole thing 
is nonsense, as an argument for maintaining that virtue and vice are things indiffer- 
ent, is only an additional bell to the fooPs cap. His Cucullus non facit monachum 
is another stone to be added to my theory of his having had a clerical education. 
[In this truly delightful essay Prof. Hutson has previously expressed his suspicion 
that Feste had been ' educated for the Giurch and had ruined his prospects by some 
wild prank ' ; he did not, however, notice, in the present instance, what did not escape 
W. A. Wright, that Feste is * talking against time and sense in order to escape the 
reprimand he deserves.'] 

49. Cuckold, etc.] Capell (p. 142) : Apothegms in such a mouth as this 
speaker's are of themselves laughable, and the Poet has made them doubly and 
trebly so : by giving him such as have no relation whatever one to other, and yet 
putting them argument- wise ; by corrupting one of them oddly, • cuckold ' for school 
or else (which is the Oxford text) counsellor ; and by both these methods obscuring 
their little pertinency to what is in hand, and making shew as they had none : but 
this is not the case absolutely ; his first murdered apothegm .squints at his ' turning 
away,' and his latter is a memento to his lady. [Which, interpreted, means that 
* calamity ' refers to the Clown himself, and * flower' to Olivia. W. A. Wright says 
here, justly, that in using the word * cuckold ' the Clown * purposely blunders.' 
Let it be repeated that he is purposely rattling off bewildering nonsense. — Ed.] 

52, etc. Sir, I bad, etc.] Lamb (ii, 367) : Mrs Powel (now Mrs Renard), then 
in the pride of her beauty, made an excellent Olivia. She was particularly excellent 
in her unbending scenes with the Clown. I have seen some Olivia's, — and those 
very sensible actresses, too, — who in these interlocutions have seemed to set their 
wits at the jester, and to vie conceits with him in downright emulation. But she 
used him for her sport, like what he was, to trifle a leisure sentence or two with, and 
then to be dismissed, and she to be the Great Lady still. She touched the imperious 
fantastic humour of the character with nicety. 

53. Misprision, etc.] Rushton {Lex Scripta, p. 84) : Coke says, 'compassings 
or imaginations against the King by word, witliout an overt act, is a high misprision,* 
— 3 Institute^ cap. Ixv. But although the Clown here speaks of misprision in the 
highest degree, I think he plays upon the word, using it also in the of contempt. 
— Skeat [Diet,) : A mistake, neglect. See Blount's Nomolexicon, ed. 1691 : * mis- 
prision of clerks (Anno 8 Hen. VL c. 15) is a neglect of clerks in writing or keep- 
ing records. . . . Misprision also signifies a mistaking.' Old French, ^ mesprison, 
misprision, error, offence, a thing done, or taken, amisse.' — Cotgrave. ... 2. It is 
tolerably certain that misprision was ignorantly confused with misprise^ and wrongly 

ACTi. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 67 

nonfacit monachum : that's as much to fay, as I weare not 
motley in my braine : good MadonUy giue mee leauc to 55 

proue you a foole. 

OL Can you do it ? 

Clo. Dexterioufly, good Madona. 58 

54. Ma/'jtfjm«M/(7/tfy,]rf. that's Cam. Glo. Rife, Dtn, Wh. ii. as I were 

as much to say Knt, Dyce, Cam. Sta, F^, Rowe i. as, / wear Kni, Dycc, Sta. 

Glo. Rife, Dtn, Wh. ii. that as much I wear Rowe ii el cet. 
CLS to say Rowe i. thafs as much as to 58. Dexterioufly^ Dexterously F^, 

say Rowe ii et cet. Rowe, + , Knt, Sta. Coll. iii. 
cu I weare] F,. as I wear F , 

used in the sense of contempt. Thus Blount, in the article already cited, says : 

* misprision of treason is a neglect or light account made of treason * ; and he derives 
the word from French mespris, contempt. This easy error has probably resulted in 
false law. [A quotation by Rushton from Coke shows that the error had received 
an authority which no lawyer in those days dare question. *Misprisio,' says Coke, 
3 Inst. cap. iii, * cometh of the word mes, pris, which properly signiBeth neglect 
or contempt.' I doubt that the Clown knew the precise legal signification of * mis- 
prision ' ; but by its present use he indirectly imputes to his mistress an offence against 
his own superior majesty. Of course, to say that the word here means simply a mistake 
may be true enough ; but I think the Clown intended to convey much more than 
this, when he used such a high-sounding phrase in the superlative degree. — Ed.] 

53, 54. Cucullus . . . monachum] W. A. Wright : Cotgrave gives the French 
proverb, * L' habit ne fait pas le moine : Pro. The Cowle makes not the Monke ; 
euerie one is not a souldier that weares armor ; nor euerie one a scholler thats clad 
in blacke.' In the same form it appears in all the languages of Europe. See Meas, 
for Afeas. V, i, 263. 

54. that's as much to say] Dyce: Thus, in 2 Hen. VI : IV, ii, 18 ; *and yet 
it is said, labour in thy vocation ; which is as much to say as, let the magistrates be 
labouring men.* Both forms [the present and as much as to say] were used. — W. A. 
Wright : Compare Florio's Italian Diet.: * Madomale, as much to say as lawfully 
borne, and of a true and lawfull Mother.' Again, in Holland's Plutarch, p. 723 : 

• For where wee faile to give reason of a cause, there begin we to doubt & make 
question, & that is as much to say, as to play the philosophers.' 

58. Dezteriously] W. A. Wright : This may possibly be an intentional cor- 
ruption, but it actually occurs in Bacon's Advancement of Learning, ii, 22, § 15 
(p. 214, ed. Wright) : * He [the sophist] cannot form a man so dexteriously, nor 
with that facility to prize and govern himself, as love can do.* Here the editions of 
1605, 1629, and 1633 all read 'dexteriously,' although in another passage the word 
is spelt as usual. Again, in Naunton's Fragmenta Regalia (ed. Arber), p. 28 : * We 
take him [Leicester] as he was admitted into the Court, and the Queens favour, where 
he was not to seek to play his part well, and dexteriously.' [This is generally con- 
sidered a corruption whether intentional or not. But Weight's quotations suggest that 
it was an allowable pronunciation, on the analogy of ' prolixious,' in Afeas. for Meas. 

II, IV, 162 : * Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes'; or 'robustious,' in Hamlet, 

III, ii, 10: *It offends me to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow,* etc.; and in 
Hen. y : III, vii, 159 : ' the men do sympathize with the mastiffs in robustious and 

68 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. v. 

OL Make your proofe. 

Clo. I muft catechize you for it Madona, Good my 60 

Moufe of vertue anfwer mee. 

OL Well fir, for want of other idlenefle, He bide your 
proofe. 63 

61. Moufe\ Af use Anon, ap. Cam. 62. //;V/<f] diti F^. adide Var. '85, 

mee] Om. F^F^, Rowe. *du/e Var. '03, '13, '21, Knt, Coll. 

rough coming-on/ Thus also in Stubbes, Anatomie of Abuses^ we find, * giue the 
King to vnderstand the inormious abuse thereof.' (p. 47 , ed. New Sh. Society, Series 
vi, No. 4.) Lastly, in Othelloy although the Qq generally have 'jealous,* the First 
Folio almost invariably prints it ' jealious.* (See Othello^ III, iv, 179, of this cd. 
Also * studient,' IV, ii, 10 ; ' jealious,* IV, iii, 30, /«r/.) Walker ( Vers. 154) quotes 
*j;;revious' from Butler, and calls attention to the present vulgarisms mischevious 
and treniendious. Wherefore, I doubt that Feste intended, or that Olivia noticed, 
anything unusual in *dsxteriously.' — Ed.] 

60. 61. Good my Mouse of vertue] Abbott (§ 13) says that this is formed by 
analogy from such phrases as * good my lord,' * good my girl,' * good my knave,* 
etc., where the possessive pronouns are so unemphatic that they are transposed and 
really combine with the nouns, like the French monsiettr. If the phrase were merely 
* good my mouse,' I think Abbott would be entirely right, and the phrase equivalent 
to * my good mouse,' but we have * mouse of virtue,' and to say * my good mouse 
of virtue' sounds a little tautological. Wherefore, I think that 'Good' is here 
emphatic, and should have a comma after it, with somewhat of the meaning of * Now, 
then,' *Come, then'; much like Marcellus's * Good, now sit down, and tell me,* 
Hamlety I, i, 70. There is a pause of a second or two after * Madonna,' while the 
Clown is marshalling his logic. Then he begins, ' Good, my mouse of virtue, 
answer me.* — Ed. 

61. Mouse] Bartlett's Concordance gives the two or three instances where Shake- 
speare has used this as a term of endearment. The most familiar to us all is 
Hamlet's * Pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his mouse,' III, iv. 183. — W. A. 
Wright : In applying this term to Olivia the Clown was stretching to the utmost his 
privilege as an allowed fool. He does this purposely to prevent her from referring 
to his past misdeeds. 

62. idlenesse] That is, trifling. Or, as Rolfe says, * pastime, means of whiling 
away an idle hour.* The interpretation of ulle should be always approached with 
fear and trembling, * all that makes wet the pores and lifts the hair.* It is the most 
fatal single word in dramatic literature, possibly, in all literature. Owing to Mac- 
ready's interpretation of it, in Hamlet's * I must be idle,' twenty-three persons were 
killed outright, and as many more horribly mutilated. Over this ensanguined scene 
the thoughtful philanthropist can but lament that it was the harmless readers of Shake- 
speare who were the victims and not the emenders of his text. See Account of the 
Terrific and Fatal Riot at the New York Astor- Place Opera House ^ May loth^ iS4gy 
p. 28. — Ed. 

62. bide] Needlessly changed to ^bide by Reed. * Bide,* says Murray ( AI E. 
/?.), * is mostly replaced in modem English by its compound ^^/V/r, but regularly 
preserved in northern English and Scotch ; and also employed by 19th century 
poets, partly, perhaps, as an archaism, partly as an aphetized form of abide,'' 

ACTi,sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 69 

Clo, Good Madona, why mournft thou ? 

OL Good foole, for my brothers death. 65 

Clo. I thinke his foule is in hell^ Madona. 

OL I know his foule is in heauen, foole. 

Clo. The more foole (Madona>) to moume for your 
Brothers foule, being in heauen. Take away the Foole, 
Gentlemen. 70 

01. What thinke you of this foole Maluolio, doth he 
not mend ? 

Mai, Yes, and fhall do, till the pangs of death (hake 
him : Infirmity that decaies the wife, doth euer make the 
better foole. 75 

Claw. God fend you fir, a fpeedie Infirmity, for the 
better increafing your folly : Sir Toby will be fworn that 
I am no Fox, but he wil not palTe his word for two pence 
that you are no Foole. 

01. How fay you to that Maluolio ? 80 

Mai. I maruell your Ladyfhip takes delight in fuch 
a barren rafcall : I faw him put down the other day, with 82 

68. /<?<»/<•] F,. /t;rj/>w/ F^F^, Rowe, + , 74,75- the bftter\ better the Rowe 

Cap. Var. Mai. Hal. Ktly. ii, + , Var. '73. 

69. foule ^ being'\ soul being Rowe et 77. increafing\ encr easing Cap. Var. 

seq. Steev. Var. 

69. soule, being] \V. A. Wright : This comma changes the construction with- 
out materially altering the sense. 

74. decaies] For the active use of this word, see, * When rocks impregnable are 
not so stout, Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays.* — Soitn. Ixv, 8 ; and 
'every day that comes come^% to decay A day's work in him.' — Cymb. I, v, 56. 

76, 77. the better increasing] Compare *With viewing of the town,' III, iii, 
46 ; * for tainting of my love,' V, i, 144. See Abbott (§ 93) for other examples of 
a verbal noun followed by an object, with or without the definite article before il. 

81. Ladyship] W^alker having stated {Crit. ii, 141) that Ladishipxs always 
so spelled in the Folio, Lettsom, in a footnote, subjoins : Walker is not quite cor- 
rect here. Ladiship is far more frequent in the Folio than Ladyship^ but the latter 
occurs fifteen times. The two modes of spelling rarely occur in the same play ; 
never, I believe, but in AlPs Well. Two Gent, of Verona has * Ladiship ' sixteen 
times; Ladyship never. Twelfth Night has * Ladyship' five times, and once 
* Ladieship'; never Ladiship, [WTiat is this but poring over the work of a com- 
positor to whom the obligation to preserve uniformity in spelling was of the lightest ? 

82. barren] See 'barren,* I, iii, 77, if need be. 

82. with] For very many examples of this instrumental withy equivalent to by^ 
see, if need be, Abbott, § 193. 

70 TWELFE NIGHT [acti. sc. v. 

an ordinary foole, that has no more braine then a ftone. 83 

Looke you now, he's out of his gard already : vnles you 
laugh and minifter occafion to him, he is gag'd. I proteft 85 

I take thefe Wifemen, that crow fo at thefe fet kinde of 
fooles, no better then the fooles Zanies, 87 

83. braine\ brains F F^ Rowe, Pope, et seq. 

Han. 87. no betUr\ to be no better Cap. 

84. gard^ guard F^. Wh. i, Coll. ii, iii (MS), KUy, Huds. 
86. thefe\ those Han. for no better Kinnear. 

lVifemen'\ F,. Wife men F^F^ fooUs'\ fool^ Theob. u et seq. 

83. ordinary foole] Staunton : An ordinary fool may mean a common fool ; 
but more probably, as Shakespeare had always ap eye to the manners of his own 
countrymen, he referred to a jester hired to make sport for the diners at a public 
ordinary. [Staunton's suggestion receives some corroboration from what follows: 
* that has no more brain than a stone,* as though the reference were to a class and 
not to one particular instance ; in the latter case, we should have expected, ' that 
had no more,' etc. Still, I am not sure that this might not apply equally well to the 
class of common fools. — Ed.] 

84. out of his gard] Deighton : We should now say, off his guard, that \&^ 
not in a position to defend himself, not prepared to continue the combat. Compare, 
for a similar metaphor, Lov^s Lab, Z. V, i, 62, *Now by the salt wave of the 
Mediterranean, a sweet touch, a quick venue of wit ! snip, snap, quick and home,' 
< venue * being a technical term in fencing for a thrust, hit [I am not sure that 
off his guard is an equivalent of the present phrase. Perhaps Mai vol io means 
that the Clown has exhausted his means of defence. It is not unfair to press a man 
until he is out of means to guard himself ; it is unfair to attack him when he is 
off his guard. — Ed.] 

86. Wisemen] I doubt that this word should be separated into its compounds ; 
at most, there should be merely a hyphen between them ; not because the printers 
have so transmitted the word, but because it probably represents the pronunciation 
of the time, when men in such com|x>unds had merely an enclitic force. We have 
it in such proper names, now-a-days, as Goodman^ Chapman, etc. Moreover, the 
sense needs the compound ; for instance, ' editors are not wise men in separating 
a compound which wisemen retain.* Walker {Crit. ii, 136) has gathered examples 
where the rhythm requires this compound to be retained in such words as richman, 
youngman, oldman^ deadman, etc. He would go so far as to read tameman in 
Mid, N. D. ni, ii, 269, of this ed. The present prose instance, * Wisemen,* is 
not included in his list, but, I think, his general rule certainly applies to it. — Ed. 

86. crow] Who will not recall Jaques and his * My lungs began to crow like 

86, 87. these set kinde of fooles] See I, ii, 12, * those poor number'; here 
'kind* like 'number* may be considered a plural. Or, as Abbott (§412) sug- 
gests, the two nouns connected by of iaa,y be regarded as a compound noun with a 
plural termination, thus, * these set kind-of -foots.* Or, as W. A. Wright surmises, 
the pronoun may be attracted into the plural by the plural substantive which follows. 
Compare Lear, H, ii, 96, * These kind of knaves, I know '; As You Like It, H, iii, 
II, 'to some kind of men Their graces serve them,' etc. 

87. the fooles Zanies] Douce : That is, fools* baubles, which had upon the top 

ACTi. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 71 

[87. the fooles Zanies] 
of them the head of a fool, [This erroneous definition caused a trifling skirmish 
between Collier and Dyce. Collier copied it in his First Edition without comment 
and, therefore, presumably with approval. Dyce {^Rem, 74) quoted Collier's note 
with the comment * Douce' s explanation is strangely wrong. ** The fools' zanies" 
is equivalent to *' the buffoons, or mimics, of the fools." Zany, both as a substantive 
and verb, is commonly used in that sense by our early writers ; ** Thou art the 
Fowler, and doest shew vs shapes, And we are all thy Zanies, thy true apes." — 
Verses on Cory ate by Drayton, in the Odcotnbian Banquet, etc., 161 1 ; « Laughes 
them to scome, as man doth busy apes When they will zanie men." — Marston's 
Antonios Reuenge, 1602.' Collier, in his Second Edition, quoted Dyce's remark 
that Douce' s definition was * strangely wrong,* and then added, somewhat disin- 
genuously, I cannot but think, that it was for that purpose only that he had quoted it 
in his First Edition. * Mr Dyce is, however,* he goes on to say, * quite as much in 
error as Mr Douce, when he says that in the passage in the text « the fools' zanies" 
means the mimics of the fools ; it means those who are silly enough to applaud fools, 
and thereby become the fools of the fools. If Mr Dyce had here consulted Rich- 
ardson, he would have seen that '* zany " is applied to half-witted people ; hence it 
is used for a fool by nature.' Halliwell has gathered a list of quotations illus- 
trating the true meaning of the word, in a note, as follows : ' Zane, the name of lohn. 
Also a sillie lohn, a gull, a noddie. Vsed also for a simple vice, clowne, foole, or 
simple fellowe in a plaie or comedie.* — Florio, Worlde of fVordes, 1598. 'Zany, 
or foolish imitator.' — Minsheu. [This quotation I cannot find in Minsheu, search 
how I may. — Ed.] The term zany was generally applied in England to an inferior 
fool or buffoon attending on and imitating another, and in this sense the word is used 
in the text. * He's like the zany to a tumbler. That tries tricks after him, to make 
men laugh.' Jonson's Every Man Out of his Humour [IV, i, p. 132, ed. Gifford] ; 
* The other gallant is his zany, and doth most of these tricks after him ; [sweats to 
imitate him in everything to a hair,' — lb. Cynthia^ s Revels, II, i, p. 265]. * Your 
Inne-a-court-man is Zany to the Knights, and (mary very scuruily) comes likewise 
limping after it.* — Dekker's Guls Hom-booke [Chap. VI, p. 251, ed. Grosart]. *As 
th' English apes and very zanies be Of everything, that they do hear and see, 
[so imitating his ridiculous tricks. They speak and write, all like meer lunaticks.'] — 
Drayton, [Elegies, To Henry Reynolds, Esq.'\ In some of the above instances, and 
in many others that might be adduced, the term zany seems to be merely used in the 
sense of imitator, a metaphorical use derived from the interpretation above given. 
The fool or attendant on a mountebank was also called a zany. In Jonson's Fox, 
when Volpone is disguised as a mountebank doctor, he addresses his attendant as 
his zany. [Halliwell gives more than a folio page of additional quotations, but 
they yield nothing new, and, moreover, are all post-Shakespearian. Whatever credit 
is due for the elucidation of the meaning of * zany,' belongs first to Halliwell, 
and next to Dyce, but they were both overlooked, doubtless inadvertendy, by 
the late Professor Baynes in his valuable Article on Shakespearian Glossaries 
(Edin, Rev: July, 1869) ; wherein it is said that * no critic has yet explained 
what **zany" really means, or pointed out the special relevancy of Shakespeare's 
allusions to the character.' Baynes then gives his own definition, which is, in effect, 
merely an amplification of Halliwell' s interpretation given above. *The zany in 
Shakespeare's day,' he observes, *was not so much a buffoon and mimic as the 
obsequious follower of a buffoon, and the attenuated mime of a mimic. He was the 

72 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. v. 

OL O you are ficke of felfe-loue Maluolioy and tafte 88 

with a diftemper'd appetite. To be generous, guitleffe, 
and of free difpofition, is to take thofe things for Bird- 90 

bolts, that you deeme Cannon bullets : There is no flan- 
der in an allow'd foole, though he do nothing but rayle ; 92 

89. guitlejfe\ F^. guileless TiesscD, Gould. 

vice, servaDt, or attendant of the professional clown or fool, who, dressed like his 
master, accompanied him on the stage or in the ring, following his movements, at- 
tempting to imitate his tricks, and adding to the general merriment by his ludicrous 
failures and comic imbecility. It is this characteristic not merely of mimicry, but of 
weak and abortive mimicry, that gives its distinctive meaning to the word, and col- 
ours it with a special tinge of contempt.' Were the zanies of the Elizabethan age 
really * weak and abortive mimics'? Surely, an abortive zany would create but 
little laughter. The loudest merriment would be evoked, I should think, when 
the mimicry of tones, of bearing, of looks, of gestures was most pronounced and 
successful. See quotation above from Cynthia* s Rn'els. Baynes's definition was too 
much influenced, I fear, by the Clowns in the modern Circus. Indeed, he asserts that 
* this feature of the early stage [the zany] has descended to our own times, and may 
still occasionally be found in all its vigour in the performances of the circus.' To 
this he was led, I think, by his solitary quotation, in illustration of the present class 
of zanies, from Ben Jonson's Every Man Out of his Humour ^ given above by Halli- 
well, wherein the zany is mentioned, not of a Fool, but of a tumbler ^ — a very dif- 
ferent character. It was this quotation, coupled with too narrow a range, that gave 
a bias to Baynes's remarks, which mainly apply to only one class of zanies, and, 
possibly, the lowest. It is to be borne in mind that mimicry^ ex vi termini^ involves 
a tinge of contempt, in that it is the attempt to imitate, in a grotesque way, for the 
purpose of boisterous laughter, the actions of another. Some discussion, on this and 
other points in Baynes's Article, arose in Notes &* Queries. But nothing new was 
called forth. In the issue for 8th of Jan., 1890 (4th, v, 39) Baynes reiterated his defi- 
nition of zany, just given. — Ed.] 

88. sicke of selfe-loue] In his Article on Proverbs in Shakesptare^ Walker 
{Crit. ii, 169) quotes this with ihe remark, *This, too, would seem to be a proverbial 
expression, from its occurring also in Jonson, Staple of News, V, i, p. 297, ed. 
Gifford, * As if my testimony were not twenty. Balanced with thine ! Picklock, So 
say all prodigals. Sick of self-love.' [Gifford gives the date of The Staple of News 
as about 1625. Any post-Shakespearian phrase should be, therefore, received with 
caution. So deep was the impression which Shakespeare made on his contempo- 
raries, that even his light expressions may have been caught up and perpetuated like 
proverbs. If * sick of self-love ' were a proverb, Shakespeare may have started it. 

90, 91. Bird-bolts] In Muck /Ido, I, i,*43, this is spelled, as it was probably 
pronounced, Burbolt. In a note ad loc. (in this edition) Steevens defines •bird- 
bolt' as a * short, thick arrow without a point, and spreading at the extremity so 
much as to leave a flat surface, about the breadth of a shilling.' 

92. an allow'd foole] Halliwell: A licensed fool, a fool permitted to say 
anything. In Hollyband's Dictionarie, 1593, mention is made of *an allowed cart 
or chariot.' 

ACTi, sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 73 

nor no rayling, in a knowne difcreet man, though hee do 93 

nothing but reproue. 

Clo. Now Mercury indue thee with leafing, for thou 95 

fpeak'ft well of fooles. 

Enter Maria. 

Mar. Madam, there is at the gate, a young Gentle- 
man, much defires to fpeake with you. 

01. From the Count Or//;/^, is it ? 100 

Ma I know not (Madam) 'tis a faire young man, and 
well attended. 

01. Who of my people hold him in delay ? 

Ma. Sir Toby Madam, your kinfman. 104 

95. lW«^•] endue Var. '03. 98, 99. GentUmany much\ Ff, Theob. 
leq/tng] learning Rowe, Han. Warb. Johns. Cap. Mai. Steev. gentle- 
pleasing Warb. man much Rowe et cet. 

96. fpeak'Jf\ speakest Var. '03, *I3, 100, 107. Count\ Duke Han. 
'21, Knt, Coll. Hal. Dyce, Cam. 104. kin/man'] Uncle Rowe ii, + . 

93, 94. discreet man . . . reproue] Is not this what Capell would call * a 
wipe ' on Malvolio, in payment for his reproof (almost amounting to insolence) of 
Olivia for laughing at Feste*s jokes ? — Ed. 

95. leasing] Heath (p. 187) : Olivia had been making a kind of apology for 
fools ; and the Fool in recompense prays Mercury, the god of cheats and, conse- 
quently, of liars, to bestow upon her the gift of leasing, or lying ; humourously inti- 
mating that, whoever undertook the defence of fools would have plentiful occasion 
for that talent. — Knight : Is it not rather, — since thou speakest the truth of fools 
(which is not profitable), may Mercury give thee the advantageous gift of lying? — R. 
G. White : As Olivia undertakes the defence of his calling, the Clown prays Mercury, 
the god of liars, to enable her to push her defence beyond the bounds of truth. 
< Leasing * appears to have been used to convey the idea of falsehood without malice. 
It was measurably synonyr^ious with * gabbling,* which is apt to run into lying. 
•Gabbynge, or lesynge, Mendacium, mendaciolum.* — Prompt, Parv. [But 'Gab- 
bing ' in the Prompt, has in it no trace of gabbling. That there is a difference 
between lying and leasing seems clear ; possibly, about the same as between 
lying and fibbing. In a letter written by Robert Armin, and printed in the Intro- 
duction to his Nest of Ninnies (p. xvi, ed. Sh. Soc.), we find, * It is my qualitie to 
add to the truth, truth, and not leasings to lyes.' Heath has given, I think, the 
best interpretation of the present passage ; Dr Johnson has a note to the same 
effect. — Ed.] 

99. much desires] For this very common omission of the relative, see line 184, 
below; II, i, 24; II, iv, 91, 114; III, iv, 220. Or Abbott, § 244. 

101-108. Walker (CnV. i, 17) endeavoured to convert these lines into verse, but 
inasmuch as he himself confessed to a comparative failure in the latter portion, 
we need spend no time over his process, beyond noting that he had to squeeze * I pray 
you* into /rfl^, * the Count* into M' Duke (which shows that he used Han- 
mer's text), and *I am sicke' into Pm sick, — Ed. 

74 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. v. 

OL Fetch him off I pray you, he fpeakes nothing but 105 
madman : Fie on him. Go you Maluolio ; If it be a fuit 
from the Count, I am ficke, or not at home. What you 
will, to difmiffe it. Exit Maluo. 

Now you fee fir, how your fooling growes old, & peo- 
ple diflike it. 1 10 

Clo. Thou haft fpoke for vs (Madona) as if thy eldeft 
f onne fhould be a foole : who fe fcull, loue cramme with 
braines, for heere he comes. Enter Sir Toby. 

One o^ thy kin has a moft weake Pia-mater, 1 14 

106. him.'\him! [Exit Maria.] Cap. Dyce ii, iii, Huds. yi?r, — here h^ comeSy — 

109. Now y(ni\ Now Rowe, Pope, one Cam. Glo. Rife, Dtn, Wh. ii. for 

Han. here he comes, one Mai. et cet. 

113, 114. for heere he comes. One'] 113. Enter...] After line 114 Rowe 

Ff, Rowe i. for here comes one Rowe et seq. 

ii, + , Cap, Var. '73, '78, Ran. Wh. i, 114. Pia-mater] Pia mater F^ et seq. 

105, 106. speakes . . . madman] Compare, ' She speakes poynyards,' Much 
Ado, II, i, 236; *I will speake daggers,* Hamlet, III, ii, 414; * He speaks plain 
cannon fire, and smoke, and bounce,' King John, II, i, 462; 'Drunke? And 
speake Parrat?* Othello, II, ii, 308. 

113, 114. heere . . . kin] See Text. Notes, — Dyce (ed. ii) : The Cambridge 
Editors, unwilling to part with a blunder of the old copy, give the passage in a 
fashion which would have surprised Shakespeare. — W. A. Wright : In common 
with other modem editors from the time of Rowe, Dyce read < here comes one of 
thy kin,' etc., which yields a certain sense, but has no particular point. The Clown 
hints that folly ran in Olivia's family, and illustrates this by pointing to Sir Toby, 
who was just entering. In the sentence as printed by Rowe and his successors, 
' for ' has no meaning, being connected with ' here comes,' and not with *one of thy 
kin,' etc. [The Cambridge text is, I think, the only correct one, and Wright's vin- 
dication of it conclusive. R. G. White (ed. i) asserts that 'he' can refer to no 
one but to Olivia's prospective son, and that it was, therefore, absurdly wrong. 
He overlooked the fact that Olivia had just sent for Sir Toby, and that it was to 
him that the Clown refers. It is to be feared that Collier's MS Corrector also failed 
to catch the meaning ; he has inserted that before * has.' — Ed.] 

114. Pia-mater] *Thebraine ... is closed and conteined within two thinne 
skinnes, which be named the railde and harde mother ; . . . The second web and 
skinne is called Pia mater, the meeke mother, that is set vnder the hard mother, 
and is nesher [i. e. more delicate] and softer then the hard mother, & compasseth the 
substance of the braine, and departeth asunder the foresayd cells. And the milde 
mother is not superfluous neither to much : for it harboureth & holdeth togethers the 
veines of the braine within. And keepeth & knitteth the braine togethers, that it 
flow not neither faile by ^ fleeting and softnesse thereof. Also this milde mother 
helpeth and beclippeth the braine, and defendeth it from the harde mother. Also by 
veines that it hath, it nourisheth the braine, and by the organe and small veines that 
it conteineth, it sendeth spirit thereto.' — Batman vppon Bartholome, Lib. Quintus, 
Chap. 3, p. 37. Of course, * pia-mater ' is here put for the brain itself. The med- 


OL By mine honor halfe drunke. What is he at the 1 1 5 
gate Cofin ? 

To, A Gentleman. 

O/. A Gentleman ? What Gentleman? 

To. 'Tis a Gentleman heere. A plague o'thefe pickle 
herring : How now Sot. 120 

115. Scene VIII. Pope, + . Johns. Coll. i, ii. gentUman : — [hic- 
By... drunke. '\ Aside. Ed. conj. cups] A Cap. genlleman here — [hic- 

116. Cofin\ CouftnY ^ ^. 6'W/fRowe cuping] — A Ran. gentleman here — A 
ii, + . ox a Var. * 73 et cct. gentleman neece. 

119. Gentleman heere. ^]Ff(subs.) >4 Gould. 
Rowe, Pope. gentleman, Here^ — 120. herring :'\ herring! Thcob. + . 

[belches.] ^ Theob. Han. gentleman- herrings! Mai. Steev. Var. Knt, Coll. 

heir^ — A Warb. gentleman here. — A Hal. Wh. i. herring* ! Dyce ii, iii. 

ical work of Shakespeare's day, which best set forth the latest knowledge of anat- 
omy, is probably Microcosmographia : A Description of the Body of Man^ etc., by 
Helkiah Crooke, Doctor in Physicke. London, 1 615. On p. 444, in describing the 
membranes of the braine, we read : ' The Arabians called them Matres the Mothers, 
and so now they are commonly tearmed. . . . The one of these which is the outward 
is thicke and called dura mater the hard Mother, the other inward and thinne called 
Pia mater^ the deere or neere Mother, because it inmiediately incompasseth and 
imbraceth the substance of the braine.' In 1888, a question was started in the 
columns of The Lancet in regard to the source of Shakespeare's knowledge, in the 
present play, of the *pia mater.' The editor of The Asclepiad, B. W. Richard- 
son, M. D., replied that inasmuch as the printer of Crooke' s large folio was William 
Jaggard, ' the same man who was printer for Shakspere, ... to that office the inde- 
fatigable playwright would often be drawn by his own business, and there he would 
hardly fail to see unfolded before him the anatomy of man from a sure source.' — 
▼ol. V, p. 387. The printer of the First Folio was Isaac Jaggard, and Crooke' s 
Microcosmographia was not published until at least thirteen years after Twelfth Night 
was performed. — Ed. 

115. What is he] See I, ii, 37, if need be, for the construction. 

1 19. Gentleman heere] In mercy to the very small number of readers who 
ever look at the Text. Notes and may be therefore lost in bewilderment over War- 
burton's emendation gentleman- heir ^ be it explained that Warburton means 'some 
lady's eldest son just come out of the nursery ; for this was the appearance Viola 
made in men's clothes.' Coleridge, in one of his notes, speaks of *the ever 
thought- swarming, but idealess, Warburton !' — Ed. 

119. heere] Capell (p. 142) : This word appears to be a corruption of some 
interjectory particle that directed a drunken hiccuping ; follow' d, perhaps, by some- 
thing for which the * herrings ' are blam'd. [The stage-directions inserted by several 
editors are adequately enlightening. — Ed.] 

12a herring] Rolfe : This is a legitimate plural, like trout y salmon , and other 
names of fishes. Compare Lear^ III, vi, 33: *two white herring.' The regular 
form of the plural is also used, as in the case of some other nouns of this class. 
See III, i, 35, below. [It will be remembered that it was a surfeit of pickled herrings 
and Rhenish wine that caused poor Greene's death in 1592. — Ed.] 

76 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. v. 

Clo. Good Sir Toby. I2I 

OL Cofin, Cofm, how haue you come fo earely by 
this Lethargic? 

To. Letcherie, I defie Letchery : there's one at the 
gate. 125 

01 . I marry, what is he ? 

To. Let him be the diuell and he will, I care notrgiue 
me faith fay L Well, it's all one. Exit 

OL What's a drunken man like, foole ? 

Clo. Like a drown'd man, a foole, and a madde man : 130 
One draught aboue heate, makes him a foole, the fecond 
maddes him, and a third drownes him. 

OL Go thou and feeke the Crowner, and let him fitte 
o'my Coz : for he's in the third degree of drinke : hee's 
drown'd : go looke after him. 135 

Clo. He is but mad yet Madona, and the foole fhall 
looke to the madman. 

Enter Maluolio. 

MaL Madam, yond young fellow fweares hee will 
fpeake with you. I told him you were ficke, he takes on 140 
him to vnderftand fo much, and therefore comes to fpeak 
with you. I told him you were afleepe, he feems to haue 
a fore knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to 143 

121. Toby.] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. 133. Crowner\ Ff, Knt, Wh. Dycc, 
Toby ! — Dycc, Sta. Toby ! Cam. Rife. Cam. Sta, Rife, Dtn. Coroner Rowe 
Toby^ — Theob. et cet. et cet. 

122. Cofin\ C//fr/f Rowe ii, + . 134. Coz\ 6^wr/<f Rowe ii, + . cousin 
124. Letcherie ^'\ Letchery! Theob. Cap. conj. Var. '73. 

Letchery ? Cap. 135. go looke"] go^ look Theob. 

127. and he] Ff, Rowe, + ,Var. '73. 137. [Exit Clown. Rowe. 

an he Han. et cet. 139. yond] yon^ Cap. yond* Coll. 

130. Madde man] mad man Ff. mad- i^^. /ore knowledge] foreknowledge 
man Rowe. Hal. Wh. Dyce, Cam. Rife, fore- 

131. heate] mark Gould. -kftowledge F^F^ et cet. 

124-128. In spite of Sir Toby's drunken state, there is a thread of logical sequence 
in bis befogged brain ; * defie * suggests the * devil,' and the * devil ' suggests * faith.' 
Toby's drunkenness is here a dramatic necessity. Maria has been sent to * fetch 
him off,' and Malvolio to dismiss the Duke's messenger. Some time must be given 
to Malvolio' s altercation with Viola at the gate ; Sir Toby must obey the summons, 
but must not anticipate any portion of Malvolio' s report. This is attained by repre- 
senting him as so intoxicated that he can tell nothing. — Ed. 

131. heate] Steevens : That is, above the state of being warm in a proper 

135. go looke] For the constructioD, see I, i, 19. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL yy 

fpeake with you. What is to be faid to him Ladie, hee's 
fortified againfl any deniall. 145 

01. Tell him, he (hall not fpeake with me. 

MaL Ha's beene told fo : and hee fayes hee'l (land at 
your doore like a Sheriffes pofl, and be the fupporter to 
a bench, but hee'l fpeake with you. 

01. What kinde o'man is he ? 1 50 

144. him LadU^"] F,. him. Lady, 148. and bt"] or be Han. Coll. MS, 

F,. him ? Lady, F^. him. Lady ? Wh. i, KUy. 
Rowe ct seq. to\ of Var. '03, '13, *2I, Knt. 

147. Ha's\ Ff, Rowe. Ha' 5 ^\^l. i, 150. a*] Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. Var. '73, 

Sla. Has Dyce i. Cam. Dtn, Wh. ii. Dyce, Cam. Sta. Rife, Dtn. </Var. '78 

* Has Dyce ii. iii. He has Pope et cet. et cct. 

147. Ha's] Of course, the full form is * He has*; but inasmuch as in familiar 
speech the ' he ' (or possibly * a * which sometimes stands for * he * ) was reduced to 
a mere aspirate, I suppose the printer believed he had reproduced the full phrase 
by giving the < Ha ' in full and then putting an apostrophe to represent the ha in 
*has.* Be this as it may, <has,' *is,' and * was' are often to be found without a 
nominative. Sometimes a nominative in the second person is omitted, as in * then 
cam*st in smiling,' V, i, 368, if that reading be correct ; see also *hadst it?' H, iii, 
28.— Ed. 

148. Sheriffes post] Halliwell : The houses of Mayors and Sheriffs of towns 
were distinguished by large posts set up before the doors. These posts were often 
elaborately carved, and were generally repainted on an accession or re-election to the 
office. 'Their lips are so lauishly red, as if they vsed to kisse an okerman euery 
morning, and their cheeks suger-candied & cherry blusht so sweetly after the colour 
of a newe Lord Mayors p>ostes, as if the pageant of their wedlocke holiday were 
harde at the doore ; so that if a Painter were to drawe any of their counterfets on a 
Table, he needes no more but wet his pencill, and dab it on their cheekes, and he 
shall haue vermillion and white enough to furnish out his worke.' — Nashe's Pierce 
Penilesse [p. 43, ed. Grosart. Halliwell gives a wood-cut of one of these posts 
'taken from a specimen at Norwich, the original being' about eight feet and a 
half high, of the time of Elizabeth. Knight also gives a picture (p. 147) of 
the same post. It is generally supposed, on Warburton's authority, that to these 
posts were affixed proclamations and public notices. But this, Knight doubts, and 
inclines to believe that • they were only tokens of authority, to denote the residence 
of a magistrate.' Certainly, the dozen or more quotations given by Halliwell seem 
to justify Knight's doubt. It seems hardly likely that so much pains would be taken 
in carving and painting, if the posts were to be afterward concealed under proclama- 
tions and temporary notices. — Ed.]. 

149. but] Here used in its original meaning, namely, out-take^ or except. See 

* But you should pittie me,' line 275 post, or see Abbott, § 120. — Ed. 

150. What] See * What time we will our celebration keep,' IV, iii, "^"^ ; or, for 
other examples of the omission of prepositions, Abbott, § 202. Note the encour- 
aging sign that a majority of the best modem editors adhere to the old text in 
reading • o* * for of. 

78 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. v. 

McU. Why of mankinde. 151 

OL What manner of man ? 

MaL Of verie ill manner : hee'l fpeake with you, will 
you, or no. 

OL Of what perfonage, and yeeres is hef 155 

Ma/.Hot yet old enough for a man, nor yong enough 
for a boy : as a fquafli is before tis a pefcod, or a Codling 
when tis almoft an Apple : Tis with him in (landing wa- 158 

151. fVky] Why, F^F^. Rowe, + . 

mankinde] F,, Rowe, + , Knt, 157. pefcod] peascod Rowe. 

Wb. Cam. Rife, Dtn. man kind F^F^, 158. ^iwi«]Ff, Rowe, + , Knt, Dycc, 

Cap. et cet. Cam. Sta. Rife, him ^en Cap. ct ceL 

153. ill manner] ill manners F F , him Coll. MS, ap. Cam. 

151, 153. mankinde ... ill manner] Very respectfully be it spoken, but I 
cannot think that this quibbling is in keeping with Malvolio's sedate character. 
It is true to his nature that he should say, with precision, * will you or no,' instead 
of * will ye, nill ye * ; and that he should be non-committal in drawing the exact 
line between a peascod and a squash, or between boy and man, — but this dallyiug 
with words, which merely irritates his mistress, and is like the Clown's talk, which 
he has just been condemning, — I do not understand. — Ed. 

155. personage] Thus, in Mid. N. D. Ill, ii, 306 : *And with her personage, 
her tall personage. Her height (forsooth).' 

157. squash] Divesting our American minds of the belief that a squash (an 
Indian word) can only be a large melon, we shall find the best definition of an Eliz- 
abethan 'squash' in the line before us. See, if needful. Mid, N. D, III, i, 193, 
and Noie. — Ed. 

157. Codling] W. A. Wright : This appears to have been a small unripe apple. 
So much is evident from the present passage, and the notes of commentators have 
added nothing to our knowledge. — Murray (A''. E. D.) : From the beginning the 
name seems to have been applied to a hard kind of apple, not suitable to be eaten 
raw; hence to any immature, or half-grown apple. In the beginning of the 17th 
century, it was applied to a variety suitable to be cooked while still unripe. 

158, 159. in standing water] Capell (p. 143) : What conception modems 
have had of [*in standing water'] the editor knows not ; but having none himself, 
he has look'd on *in' as an error, and substituted for it what all will comprehend at 
first sight [e'en]. — W. A. Wright: The phrase, if the reading be correct, must 
mean *in the condition of standing water.' So * in Pyramus' [Mid. N. D. IV, ii, 
24) signifies * in the character of Pyramus' (compare lb. V, i, 220, *in a man and 
a lion '). It is not clear that Capell's alteration is necessary, although * in ' is to be 
found as a misprint for e^ en ; as, for example, in Ant. 6r» Cleop. IV, xv, 73, where 
the Folios have, * No more but in a woman.' And again in AlP s Welly III, ii, 20. 
[Capell's emendation is, I think, wrong; it throws too much emphasis on the 
phrase. Possiblyy the simile was drawn from the tides at London Bridge. In the 
Tempest, II, i, 236, Sebastian says, * I am standing water,' where, as the context 
shows, he means just at the turn of the tide, neither ebbing nor rising. But 
whencesoever the simile be drawn, Wright's interpretation of * in ' is essential. — Ed.] 


ter, betweene boy and man. He is verie well-fauour'd, 

and he fpeakes verie fhrewiflily : One would thinke his i6o 

mothers milke were fcarfe out of him. 

OL Let him approach : Call in my Grentlewoman. 

Mai. Gentlewoman, my Lady calles. Exit. 

Enter Maria. 
01 . Giue me my vaile : come throw it ore my face, 165 

Wee'l once more heare Orjinos Embaflie. 

Enter Uiglenta. 

Vio. The honorable Ladie of the houfe, which is fhe ? 

01. Speake to me, I (hall anfwer for her : your will. 

Uio. Moft radiant, exquifite, and vnmatchable beau- 170 
tie. I pray you tell me if this bee the Lady of the houfe, 
for I neuer faw her. I would bee loath to caft away my 
fpeech : for befides that it is excellently well pend, I haue 
taken great paines to con it. Good Beauties, let mee fu- 
(laine no fcome ; I am very comptible, euen to the leaft 175 
finifter vfage. 

164. SccDC IX. Pope, + . 170, 171. beatUu.'\ beauty. F^F^, 

165. come thr(nv\ come, throw Rowe. Coll. beauty. F , Knt. beauty ! Wh. i. 
167. Uiolenta] F,. beauty — or beauty. — Rowe et cct. 

Enter...] Enter. ..and Attend- 173. pend^ F,. pentCd F^F^. pen'd 

ants. Cam. Cap. penned Coll. Cam. 

169. wiU!\ will? F^. 175. comptible'] prompt Han. easy 

170. radiant"] radient F . cowed, liable Orger. 

161. were] See *my outside have not charmed her/ and, if need be, for similar 
subjunctives, Abbott, § 368. 

167. Violenta] This is the name of a character in AlPs IVell that Ends Well. 
who does not, however, speak throughout the play. From the occurrence of the name 
here, together with * Capilet,' both as the family name of Diana in AlVs Well and 
as the name of Sir Andrew Aguecheek*s horse, Fleay (Life, etc., p. 217) infers 
that Twelfth Night is later in date than AlP s Well. The fact may well be true ; 
but it is not quite clear that a mere repetition of names can prove a sequence in time 
in favour cither of one play or of the other. We have no assurance that * Violenta ' 
occurred in Shakespeare's MS. It sounds suspiciously like Viola enter which the 
compositor misheard and transformed into its present shape, after having already 
carelessly set up * Enter'* before it. — Ed. 

171. I pray you tell xne, etc.] It cannot be that Viola could not tell which was 
Olivia ; there must have been, between the highborn mistress and the attendant, a 
marked difference in the elegance of dress, which Viola* s quick woman's eye would 
have instantly detected,;— the veil alone was a sufficient indication, — but Viola was 
burning with impatience to see the face with which Orsino was enamoured, and, to 
gain tliis end, thus pleaded her embarrassed ignorance. — Ed. 

175. comptible] Warburton : That is, ready to call to account. — Heath 

8o TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. v. 

OL Whence came you fir? 177 

Vio. I can fay little more then I haue ftudied, & that 
queftion's out of my part. Good gentle one, giue mee 
modeft aflurance, if you be the Ladie of the houfe, that 180 
may proceede in my fpeech. 

01. Are you a Comedian ? 

Vio, No my profound heart : and yet (by the verie 
phangs of malice, I fweare) I am not that I play .Are you 
the Ladie of the houfe ? 185 

181. my\ Om. F^F^, Rowe i. 184. phangs"] pangs Rowe i, fangs 

Rovve ii. 

(p. 1 88) : The meaning is plain, I am very apt to take to heart, and to make account 
of, the least sinister usage. — M. Mason : There is no such word as *comptible.* 
... If we are to adopt a new word, let us rather borrow one from the French, 
which will clearly express what Viola means, and read domptabUy that is, apt to be 
subdued or tamed. Yet I am not satisfied with this conjecture. [It would be dis- 
courteous here to disagree. — Ed.] — Steevens ; Viola begs she may not be treated 
with scorn, because she is very submissive, even to lighter marks of reprehension. — 
Harness : The meaning here intended appears to be susceptible. — Murray (N. E. 
D. s. V. Countable y where, under the third subdivision, the present passage is the only 
quotation) : Liable to answer /<?, sensitive to. [I prefer Harness's definition, and if 
to it be added Murray's sensitive, an ample meaning is obtained. Both Halli- 
WELL and \V. A. Wright furnish examples of comptabUy which seem to me to 
mean accountable, but this is assuredly not Viola's meaning. — Ed.] 

180. modest assurance] W. A. Wright: That is, moderate assurance, only 
enough to satisfy me. [In other words, pray lay aside your veil, and let me see 
your face. — Ed.] 

181. may] This begins p. 259 in the Folio. The catchword 'I' at the bottom 
of p. 258 has been overlooked. — Ed. 

182. Comedian] The Cowden-Clarkes : Olivia's sarcasm at the acting a part 
which the delivery of a set speech implies. [Every phrase of Viola intimated that 
she was * acting a part ' ; her words were all tinged with the stage : her * speech ' 
was * well penn'd,' she had 'conned' it, and she had * studied' her *part.* There 
could be but little sarcasm in taking her at her own valuation. Did not the sting 
lie in the word * Comedian '? Tlie social brand thereby implied was almost of the 
lowest. In Sonnet cxi, Shakespeare is supposed to bewail the degradation to which 
his profession subjected him. — Ed.] 

183. profound heart] W.A.Wright: The epithet 'profound' is applied to 
Olivia in bantering compliment to her sagacity. Deighton, however, thinks that 
these words are 'merely a continuation of the euphuistic style in which Viola had 
begun her address, "most radiant, exquisite," etc' 

183, 184. by the verie. phangs of malice] W. A. W'right: Viola appears to 
challenge the most malicious construction which could be put upon her conduct, and 
it would amount only to this, that she was not what she seemed. [Viola invokes 
the very bitterest malice, its very fangs, to vouch for the truth that she was not 
what she played. There is a parallel passage in Othello, where Desdemona asks 

ACTi, sc.v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 8 1 

OL If I do not vfurpe my felfe, I am. i86 

Uio. Moft certaine, if you are fhe, you do vfurp your 
felfe : for what is yours to beftowe, is, not yours to re- 
ferue. But this is from my CommiflTion : I will on with 
my fpeech in your praife, and then fhew you the heart of 190 
my meflage. 

OL Come to what is important in't : I forgiue you 
the praife. 

1^0. Alas, I tooke great paines to ftudie it, and 'tis 
Poeticall. 195 

OL It is the more like to be feigned, I pray you keep 
it in.I heard you were fawcy at my gates, & allowd your 
approach rather to wonder at you, then to heare you. If 
you be not mad, be gone : if you haue reafon, be brcefe : 199 

187. you do'\ yo do F^. 199. not mad^ mad Mason, Ran. 

196. feigfudf] fdgned. Rowe, + . Dyce ii, iii, Huds. Dtn. btU mad Sta. 
feigfid ; Cap. conj. Coll. ii, iii. 

197. <5r* allowd^ and I aiiouiid gone] gon F,. 
Pope, -T . 

lago, < what praise could* st thou bestow on a deseruing woman indeed? One, that 
in the authorithy of her merit, did iustly put on the vouch of very malice it selfe.* — 
II, i, 170, of this ed. where see JVofes. — Ed.] 

184. not that I play] See, for omission of relative, line 99 above. 

186. vsurpe my selfe] That is, counterfeit. See V, i. 265. 

187-189. Most certaine . . . yours to reserue] This somewhat obscure and 
elliptical sentence may be, I think, thus paraphrased : if it be in your power to give 
away the lordship of this house (Portia said she was the lord oi her fair mansion, 
master of her servants] it is so rightfully your duty to do it, that, if you do not do 
it, you are a usurper of the lord on whom you should bestow it, that is, of course, 
00 Orsino. In thus earnestly pleading Orsino*s cause, Viola was here, I think, for a 
moment, betrayed into seriousness. She instantly sees, however, that this tone is 
premature, and apologises, * But this v&from my commission.* Her bearing is forced 
and unnatural, even flippant, until Maria has retired, then it becomes serious and 
every word comes from her heart. — Ed. 

189. from] See 'Write from it,' etc., V, i, 351, or ABnOTT, § 158, for other 
examples of * from * used in the sense of a7uay from, without a verb of motion. 

189. I will on] See Abbott (§ 405) for ellipses of verbs of motion^ or oi pur- 
pose after * will ' and * is.* Compare, *"Your store is not for idle markets,' III, 
iii, 50. 

196. feigned] Compare As You Like It, III, iii, 17, where Touchstone tells 
Audry that the * truest poetrie is the most faining.' 

199. you be not mad] M. Mason (p. 114) : The sense evidently requires that 

we should read : < If you be mad,' etc. For the words * be mad,' in the first part 

of the sentence, are opposed to * reason * in the second. [Dyce and Deighton 

adopted this emendation.] — Staunton : We should perhaps read : * If you be but 



82 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. v. 

'tis not that time of Moone with me^ to make one in fo 200 
skipping a dialogue. 

Ma. Will you hoyft fayle fir, here lies your way. 

Vio. No good fwabber, I am to hull here a little lon- 
ger. Some mollification for your Giant, fweete Ladie ; 204 

200. th€Li time of Moone\ the time of 202. ^r,] sir? Pope et seq. 

the moon Rowe. theU time of the moon 204. mollification for.,, Giant'\ modi- 

Pope. + , Var. Ran. fication of ,. taunt Gould. 

mad,' etc., that is, *■ If you are a mere madman, begone,' etc. No two words are 
more frequently confounded in these plays than not and but, [This emendation 
Dyce (ed. ii) pronounced *very unsatisfactory'; COLUER (ed. ii) thought differ- 
ently ; it is in his text] — The Cowden-Clarkes thus paraphrase, 'If you are not 
quite without reason, begone ; if you have some reason, be brief, that you may be 
soon gone.' — W. A. Wright : There is quite as much contrast as that which Mason 
finds, between a state of mind which is a little short of madness, and that which is 
distinguished by the possession of clear reason, and Olivia seems to imply that 
Viola may not be actually mad, but only going mad, and in that case bids her 
begone. [The paraphrase of the Cowden-Clarkes seems adequate. Had Olivia 
supposed it possible that the Page might be downright mad, as Mason's emendation 
implies, she could hardly have imagined that an appeal to him to go would have 
any effect ; I am inclined to think that she would herself have left the room as 
quickly as possible. In what I have said above, I do not wish to imply that Collier 
adopted Staunton's emendation, without acknowledgement. Staunton's edition and 
Collier's Second Edition were issued almost simultaneously, and as the former was 
issued in monthly Numbers, beginning with November, 1857, it is almost impossible, 
at this late day, to know which edition was the predecessor. — Ed.] 

200. time of Moone] < The Moone when he is in the second signe after the 
ascendent, betokeneth discomfort, wo, sorrow, & losse of cattel by theeues & robbers. 
Also in the fourth signe, & in the sixt, and in the eight, he betokeneth wrath, 
anguish, withdrawing & changeablenesse of the people, & betokeneth in the tenth 
signe, that who that then beginne to rebell shall be soone set down : and in the 
twelfth, he betokeneth let, strife, hardnesse & prison of friends. And in all other 
houses & signes he hath good effect, and betokeneth good.' — Batman vppon Bar- 
tholomew Lib. VIII, Cap. 30, p. 134 verso. This is quoted merely as an illustration 
of the belief in the influence of the times of the moon. It is possibly superfluous ; 
the belief cannot be said to have even yet died out. In the Wint, Tale we have 
'These dangerous lunes of the King.* — Ed. 

201. skipping] Johnson : That is, wild, frolic, mad. — Malone : Again, in Mer. 
of Ven, II, ii, 132 : * allay with some cold drops of modestie Thy skipping spirit.* 

203. to hull] Murray {N. E. D,) -. To float or be driven by the force of the 
wind or current on the hull alone ; to drift to the wind with sails furled. [Among 
the quotations are Rich, III: IV, iv, 438, and the definition in Capt. Smith's Sea- 
man^ s Grammar, ^627, ix, 40 : * If that split . . . then hull, which is to beare no 
saile.' IbiJ, * They call it hulling also in a calme swelling Sea, which is commonly 
before a storme, when they strike their sailes lest she should beat them in peeces 
against the mast by Rowling.'] 

204. Giant] Johnson : Ladies, in romance, are guarded by giants, who repel 


tell me your minde, I am a meffenger. 205 

205. teli... meffenger] OH. Tell me Var. Knt, Sto. Coll. ii, Dyce, Ktly, 
your mind. Vio. / am a messenger. Huds. Dtn. 
Warb. Han. Johns. Var. Ran. Mai. Steev. 

all improper or troublesome advances. Viola, seeing the waiting-maid so eager to 
oppose her message, entreats Olivia to pacify her giant. — Steevens : Viola likewise 
alludes to the diminutive size of Maria, who is called, on subsequent occasions, 
'little villain,* 'youngest wren of mine,' etc. — Malone : So, Falstaff to his page, 
'Sirrah, you giant,' 2 Hen, IV: I, ii, I. 

205. tell . . . messenger] Warburton : These words must be divided between 
the two speakers. [Sec Text. Notes.] Viola growing troublesome, Olivia would 
dismiss her, and therefore cuts her short with this command, ' Tell me your mind.' 
The other taking advantage of the ambiguity of the word < mind,' which signifies 
either business or inclination, replies as if she had used it in the latter sense, ' I am 
a messenger.' — Heath (p. 188) : It is extremely odd that Mr Warburton should 
understand these words to express Viola's inclinations, not her business. — M. 
Mason : As a messenger^ she was not to speak her own mind, but that of her 
employer. — Capell (who adhered to the Folio): Viola's 'tell me your mind' may 
stand well enough for — shall I have this favour from you ? alluding to what she had 
just ask'd ; and her ' I am a messenger' follows such question aptly ; but, to speak 
the truth, the passage were best without those first words ; which, among other 
objections to them, cause the speech to end metrically. — Collier was the first, after 
Capell, to restore the old text, but he recanted in his Second Edition, and was a ' con- 
vertite ' to the Folio again, in his Third. In his First Edition he remarks, ' Viola 
asks Olivia to tell her her mind, because she is a messenger, and wishes to take 
back an answer. Olivia could hardly say to Viola, "Tell me your mind," when 
she knew that Viola only brought a message from the Duke.' But how can Viola 
expect to carry back an answer, and ask Olivia to tell her her mind, when she has 
not yet delivered any message? Collier failed to see the good interpretation of 
Capell ; but Hunter, (who applauded Collier for restoring the Folio,) saw it, and 
remarked (i, 402) : ' Viola evidently appeals to Olivia whether she will suffer Maria 
to turn her out of the house so unceremoniously, and claims the privil^e of an 
ambassador to be courteously treated, and allowed to deliver his message.' This 
interpretation was lost on Dyce, who suspected corruption in the whole passage, 
and that ' perhaps something more than prefixes ' had dropped out ; * I adopt here,' 
he goes on to say, ' Warburton' s distribution of the dialogue ; what has been urged 
against it by Mr Collier and Mr Hunter having only tended to strengthen my con- 
viction that "Tell me your mind" cannot possibly belong to Viola.' Hereupon, 
Collier, in his Second Edition, acknowledged that he was ' convinced, on reconsid- 
eration,' that Warburton was right. But, as I have said. Collier's conviction was 
not steadfast when he issued his Third Edition. Rolfe and W. A. Wright both 
express a belief in a possible corruption or omission here. It is not impossible ; but 
with Capell' s and Hunter's interpretation at hand, there seems to be little need of 
resorting to this rather ignominious retreat. We must bear in mind that this 
dialogue was not carried on by actors with hands hanging at their sides. It is not 
extravagant to picture Maria's zeal as so warm that she attempts to force Viola from 
the apartment. ' Mollification,' for which Viola pleads, implies somewhat more 
of vehemence than is expressed in merely 'Will you hoist sail, sir.' Possibly, a 

84 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. v. 

OL Sure you haue fome hiddeous matter to deliuer^ 206 
when the curtefie of it is fo fearefull. Speake your office. 

Vio. It alone concemes your eare : I bring no ouer- 
ture of warre, no taxation of homage; I hold the Olyffe 
in my hand : my words are as full of peace^as matter. 210 

OL Yet you began rudely. What are you ? 
What would you ? 

Vio. The rudeneffe that hath appeared in mee, haue I 
leam'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I 
would; are as fecret as maiden-head : to your eares, Di- 215 
uinity; to any others, prophanation. 

OL Giue vs the place alone, 
We will heare this diuinitie. Now fir, what is your text? 

Vio. Moft fweet Ladie. 219 

209. taxation] Taxations F^, Rowe i. 216. others] other* s Pope ii, Theob. 

Olyffe] Oliff F^. olive Rowe. Warb. et seq. 

211, 212. Continuoas line. Pope et 218. [Exit Maria. Rowe. Exeunt 

seq. M. and Attendants, (after diuinitie) 

215. as maiden-head] as a maiden- Cap. 

'heard F,. as a maiden-head F^F^, 219. Ladie.] Lady, — Theob. Warb. 

Rowe, Pope, Han. as maidenhood et seq. 
Coll. MS, Huds. 

repugnance to accepting any emendation at Warburton's dogmatic hands may have 
some influence with me ; yet I cannot but think that, wherever the words of the 
Folio admit of a dramatic explanation, the text should be retained. — Ed. 

208. alone] This word in the present passage is marked by Abboit as coming 
under his Paragraph (§ 420) on The Transposition of Adverbs ; several editors have, 
consequently, remarked that this * alone ' is transposed and that it does not qualify 
*It' or 'concerns,' but 'ear.* Herein, they seem to overlook that this makes 
Viola virtually assert that her message does not concern Olivia's mouth, or hands, 
but her *ear alone.* Possibly^ it was to avoid this very awkwardness that 
Shakespeare put * alone' just where it is, — the only place where it can be put 
while the present phrase is retained. A purist, so-called, would change the 
phrase and write : * It concerns the ear of you alone.* But even this expres- 
sion is erroneous ; no change is necessary if < alone * be regarded as parenthet- 
ical : * It (alone) concerns your ear ' ; this suggests the full phrase : * This 
concerns your ear, when we are alone.* (Viola may have glanced at Maria as 
she uttered the word.) This alleged 'transposition of adverbs* is common in 
Shakespeare, but in many a case, I think, we are inclined to accept it too 
readily. — Ed. 

209. taxation] That is, claim, demand. 

215. secret as maiden-head] This is, as always, maidenhood. — ^Theobald 
(Nichols, Illust. ii. 355)* 1*^^ context seems rather to persuade, *as sacred as maid- 
hood.* And this afterwards Olivia swears by, * By maid-hood, honor, truth, and 
cuery thing.* [Ill, i, 154]. 


OL A comfortable do6lrine, and much may bee faide 220 
of it. Where lies your Text ? 

Vio. In Orfinoes bofome. 

Oi. In his bofomef In what chapter of his bofome ? 

Vio. To anfwer by the method, in the firfl of his hart. 

OL O, I haue read it : it is herefie. Haue you no more 225 
to fay ? 

Vio. Good Madam, let me fee your face. 

OL Haue you any Commifsion from your Lord, to 
negotiate with my face : you are now out of your Text : 
but we will draw the Curtain, and (hew you the pifture. 230 
Looke you fir, fuch a one I was this prefent : Ift not well 
done ? 232 

221. your\ the Rowe, Pope, Han. Jackson, such a one I was as this pre- 

222. Orfmoes] Orfino*s F^F^. sents ; Sing. conj. Clarke, such a one 
231. fuch a one I was this prefent :'\ I am at this present; Coll. MS. such a 

such a one I wear this present : Warb. one as I with this [unveiling] present : 

Theob. Han. such as once I was, this Anon. (1814) ap. Cam. such a one I 

presents : Mason, Ran. Harness, such was, as this present,.. Ktly. such a one, 

a one as I was this present: Var. '03, /, as this presents. Daniel, such a one 

*I3, '21. such a one I was, this presents ; Pm, as this presents K. Elze. 

Becket such a one as / was this presents. 232. [Unveiling, Rowe et seq. 

220. A comfortable doctrine] That is, a comforting doctrine. Thus Juliet 
says, < O comfortable friar.' — Deighton : It is a phrase used in religious or theo- 
logical language. 

224. method] That is, to keep the theological style. 

225. heresie] Deighton : In ' text,' * comfortable doctrine,' * chapter,' ' first of 
his heart,' 'heresy,' Olivia is merely carrying on the idea suggested by Viola's use 
of 'divinity' and 'profanation.' 

230. Curtain] See 'Curtaine,' I, iii, 1 18. 

231. such a one . . . present] Warburton : This is nonsense. The change 
of ' was' Xowear, I think, clears all up, and gives the expression an air of gallantry. 
Viola presses to see Olivia's face ; the other at length pulls off her veil, and says, 
'We will draw the curtain and show you ih^ picture.* I wear this complexion 
today, I may wear another tomorrow ; jocularly intimating that she painted. 
— Capbll (p. 143): A pleasantry upon herself most undoubtedly; and its mean- 
ing, — when you make your report of me, you may say I 7vas such and such when 
you saw me, but can't answer for what I may be at the time you are talking : the 
intimation is both genteeler in this way, and juster- worded, than by [Warburton' s 
emendation. ] For who talks of wearing a ' picture,' yet that is the predicate, and 
to that the terms after should be accommodated. — Steevens ( Var. 1785) : I am 
not satisfied with [Warburton' s] emendation. She says, 'I was this present,' 
instead of saying < I am,* because she has once shown herself, and personates the 
beholder, who is afterwards to make the relation. [It is to be feared that Steevens 
took the hint from Capell. — Ed.] Ibid. ( Var. 1793): We may read, ' Such a one I 
was. Thi^ presence, is ' t not well done ? ' t. e. this mien, is it not happily represented ? 

86 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. v. 

Uio. Excellently done, if God did all. 233 

— M. Mason : This passage is nonsense as it stands, and necessarily requires some 
emendation. That proposed by Warburton would make sense of it ; but then the 
allusion to a picture would be dropped, which began in the preceding part of the 
speech, and is carried on through those that follow. If we read presents^ instead 
of ' present,' this allusion will be preserved, and the meaning will be clear. I have 
no doubt but the line should run thus : * such as once I was, ^\% presents.^ Presents 
means represents. — M ALONE : I suspect, the author intended Olivia should again cover 
her face with her veil before she speaks these words. — Knight [adopting Malone*s 
suggestion] : The Folio text appears clear enough. Olivia unveils her face for an 
instant only ; and says, ' Look you, sir, such a one I was this present,' — such I was 
this moment. — Hunter (i, 402): Olivia is not speaking in print, as if her words 
were to be like the words of a professed orator, but engaged in a lively dialogue, 
and any words more appropriate to the act of unveiling than those which the poet 
has assigned her [in the Folio] cannot be conceived. ' This present ' is a common 
phrase, often occurring at the close of letters. — Dyce (ed. ii): Mr Lettsom's 
[alteration is] ' such a one as I this presents,' i. e. * this picture represents my poor 
person.' — Deighton : It is probably nothing more than an affectation by Olivia of 
legal preciseness : this is what I was just now, though hidden by my veil ; different 
from what you saw me, but not changed. [Her question, * /r'/ not well done?' 
weakens the suggestion of Malone and Knight that she restores her veil. I think 
her words are an attempt to be jocular to hide the embarrassment caused by 
removing her veil to allow an exceedingly handsome young man to gaze on her 
face, and she says in effect, * Such a one I was an instant ago,' before she removed 
her veil, and, of course, such she still remains. — Ed.] 

233. Excellently . . . all] C. Scott (p. 271) : Few will forget the surprising 
effect Miss Terry made in [the present line]. It was the very conceit of graceful 
impudence. [I doubt the propriety of * graceful impudence.' Olivia had invited 
the suspicion that her beauty was fictitious by asking, * is it not we// done ? * and 
there is more of tragedy than comedy in Viola's reply. She knew that God had 
done all, but replied merely in Olivia's vein while her admiration was gathering 
itself into that earnest tribute, which follows, to the exquisite beauty of her rival. 

233. if God did all] See ' Is he of God's making?'— /fj You Like It, III, ii, 
201, and notes in this ed. Possibly, painting and other artificial aids to beauty were 
more prevalent in Shakespeare's time than is generally supp>osed. It is unsafe 
to trust satire ; we must take, therefore, for what it is worth, the following from 
Lodge's Wits Miserie, 1596: * Beleeue me, I thinke in no time lerome had better 
cause to crie out on pride then in this, for pointing now adaies is grown to such a 
custome, that from the swartfaste Deuil in the Kitchen to the fairest Damsel in the 
cittie, the most part looke like Vizards for a Momerie, rather than Christians trained 
in sobrietie.' p. 15, ed. Hunterian Club. See also, where is no satire, but appar- 
ently a plain statement of facts, albeit in Italy, Guazzo, The ciui/e Conuersation, 
trans, by G. pettie, 1586, Third booke, p. 125: * We ought to thinke also, that 
those which use artificial meanes, displease God much, in altring his image, & please 
men neuer a whit, in going about to deceiue them. I know no man of judgement, 
but setteth more, by ods, by a naturall beautie that sheweth but meanlie, then by a 
painted artificiall beautie that shineth most gallantlie : And I would wish those 

ACTi. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 87 

OL ^Tis in graine fir, 'twill endure winde and wea- 
ther. 235 

234. in graine\ in-grain Wh. i. 

dawbed, pargetted, and Termilion died faces, to consider what scoffes and mockes, 
men when they are by tliemselues, giue to these bolstred beauties. . . . For I knew 
one once inueigh earnestly against counterfaite women, not perceiuing poore foole 
her owne purple died face, whereas some of the coulours stack vpon her gorget : 
but such women would be tried in such sort as a great manie were once by an hon- 
est Matrone : who at a feast making one at a game wherein euerie one by tumes 
commaundeth ouer all the rest, being come to her tume, she caused a basen with 
water to be brought, wherwith she forthwith washed her hands & face, command- 
ing all the rest to doe as much, whereby a great manie of them with griefe and 
shame, made the painting runne downe along their cheekes. I know also a young 
woman, whose face two monthes since was like a colliers, and now she ietteth vp 
and downe so bewhited, or rather so bepainted, that she seemeth quight another 
woman : yet when she wrieth her head a little, there appeareth such blacknesse in 
her neck and throate, so different from her face, that you would verelie thinke that 
it were a Flemminges head set vppon a Moores necke.' In Jonson's Sejanus, II, 
i, Eudemus, the physician of Livia, is represented as applying to his royal mistress 
various cosmetics and artificial aids to beauty. — Ed. 

234. in graine] Marsh (p. 67) : The history of the word grain^ in the sense 
of a dye, is this : The Latin granum signifies a seed or kernel, and it was early 
applied to all small objects resembling seeds, and finally to all minute particles. A 
species of oak or ilex, the quercus coccifera of botanists, common on all the Medi- 
terranean coasts, is frequented by an insect of the genus coccus, the dried body, or 
rather ovarium, of which furnishes a variety of red dyes. From its round, seed-like 
form, the prepared coccus was called in later Latin, granufftf [which] becomes ^aiiA 
in Spanish, graine in French, and from one of these is derived the particular use of 
the English word [as in Milton's ' robe of darkest grain ']. Grain, then, as a col- 
oring material, strictly taken, means the dye produced by the coccus insect, often 
called, in commerce and in the arts, kermes, but inasmuch as the kermes dye, like 
that extracted from the murex of Tyre, is capable of assuming a considerable variety 
of reddish tones or hues, Milton and other English poets often use grain as equiva- 
lent to Tyrian purple. . . . ( P. 72. ) The color obtained from kermes or grain was 
a peculiarly durable, or as it is technically called, a fast or fixed dye, for fast used 
in this sense is, etymological ly,yfx^^. When then a merchant recommended his 
purple stuffs, as being dyed in grain, he originally meant that they were dyed with 
kermes [the Arabic name for the coccus insect] and would wear well, and this 
phrase, by a common process in language, was afterwards applied to other colours, 
as a mode of expressing the quality of durability. Thus in the Com. of Err, III, 
ii, 108, to the observation of Antipholus, 'That's a fault that water will mend,' 
Dromio replies: 'No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it.' And in 
Twelfth Night, Olivia replies ' 'Tis in grain,' etc. In both these examples it is the 
sense of permanence, a well-known quality of the purple produced by the^^m or 
kermes, that is expressed. It is familiarly known that if wool be dyed before spin- 
ning, the color is usually more permanent than when the spun yam or manufactured 
cloth is first dipped in the tincture. When the original sense of grain grew less 
familiar, and it was used chiefly as expressive of fastness of color, the name of the 

88 TWELFE NIGHT [act i. sc. v. 

Vio. Tis beauty truly blent, whofe red and white, 236 

Natures owne fweet, and cunning hand laid on : 
Lady, you are the cruell'ft (hee aliue. 
If you will leade thefe graces to the graue. 
And leaue the world no copie. 240 

OL O fir, I will not be fo hard-hearted : I will giue 
out diuers fcedules of my beautie. It fhalbe Inuentoried 
and euery particle and vtenfile labell'd to my will : As, 
Item two lippes indifferent redde. Item two grey eyes, 
with lids to them; Item, one necke, one chin, & fo forth. 245 
Were you fent hither to praife me.^ 

242. diuers\ diverse Theob. Warb. 244. Item'\ Jtenty F^F^. 

Johns. Var. Ran. Mai. 246. prai/e'] Upraise Mai. Var. '78, 

fcedule5\ schedules Rowe. '85, Steev. Var. Wh. i, Dyce ii, iii, 

Itjhalbe\ I shall be Han. Huds. Coll. iii. 

effect was transferred to an ordinary known cause, and dyed in grainy originally 
meaning dyed with kermes, then dyed with fast color, came at last to signify, dyed 
in the wool or other raw material. 

238. shee] Compare, * The faire, the chaste, the vnexpressive shee* — As You 
Like Itf III, ii, II ; *I am that he, that vnfortunate he,* — lb. line 378. Or, see 
Abbott, § 224, for other examples. 

239, 240. If you . . . copie] Steevens points out an iteration of this idea in 
Sonnet 3 ; and Malone in Sonnets 9 and 1 3. For * copy ' as here used, see IVint. 
Tale, I, ii, 150, and II, iii, 126. 

242. scedules] W. A. Wright : Cotgrave gives three forms of this word in 
French : CeduUy Scedule^ and Schedule ; and in Sherwood's Eng, and French Diet, 
[appended to Cotgrave] we find, *A Scedule. Scedule, cedule ; minute, schede, 
schedule.* [In Hollyband, we find, ^Cidule^ a sedule, a briefe, a handwriting,* and 
also * Scidule <5r* obligation ^ an obligation, a bill.'] 

243. labeird] Rushton ( Testamentary Language^ p. 9) : The word * label ' has 
two significations : it signifies a paper annexed by way of addition or explication to 
a will or testament, which is called a codicil or label (Cowell, Jnterpr.)^ and in this 
sense it may be used by Olivia. It also signifies a slip of paper or parchment for an 
appending seal. 

244. indifferent] See I, iii, 126, where Sir Andrew says his leg does indifferent 
well in a dam'd colour'd stock. 

244. grey] See Rom. &* Jul. II, iv, 39, * Thisbe, a grey eye or so.* When 
applied to the sky or to eyes, this colour is generally accepted as blue. See Much 
AdOf V, iii, 28, * Dapples the drowsy East with spots of grey.' 

246. praise] Malone : That is, appraise, or appreciate. M. Mason and Knight 
prefer to accept * praise * in the sense of extol, applaud ; Collier (and also Knight) 
maintained that the old word for appraise was apprise, but in his Third Ed. Collier 
accepts Malone* s spelling, Upraise. Halliwell proves by quotations that Malone's 
reading is certainly possible. His note is as follows : Olivia is here speaking very 
satirically, and asks Viola, in ridicule or assumed indignation, whether he (she) was 
sent to appraise her beauties, like a broker might do furniture. * I prayse a thynge, 

ACT I. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 89 

Vio. I fee you what you are, you are too proud : 247 

But if you were the diuell, you are faire : 
My Lord, and mafter loues you : O fuch loue 
Could be but recompencM, though you were crown'd 250 

The non-pareil of beautie. 

OL How does he loue me ? 

ViOy With adorations, fertill teares, 253 

250. CoHid'\ Should Coll. MS. Knt, Coll. Hal. Wh. Cam. adoration's 

251. non'Parnl'\ non-pareUlY^ non- fertile Han. Ran. Mai. adorations ^ 
pariiiY^, non-parilY ^. nonpareil \2J, with fertile Huds. adorations, with 
'03 ct scq. fertile Pope et cct. faithful adorations 

253. adorations, fertUl^ Ff, Rowe, ferHle Joicey (iV. <5r (?«. 8th, vi, 283). 

I esteeme of what value it is. Je aprise, prim. conj. I can nat prayse justly howe 
moche it is worthe, but as I gesse : je ne le puis poynt apriser combien it vault, 
mays comme je diuifieJ* — Palsgrave, 1530 [p. 664, ed. 1852]. * Prayse by value, 
estimo,* Huloet's Abecedarium, 1552. * A praiser or valuer,* Baret's Alvearie^ 1580. 
[It is a question of interpretation. The word in the Folio may mean either 
praise or appraise. The only other quotation given by Schmidt, or by the editors, 
of Shakespeare's use of this word in this sense, is equally ambiguous; in Tro. 6r* 
Cress, in, ii, 97, we have, 'Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove.* 
I prefer the sense of appraise, but it cannot be said that those who prefer praise are 
wrong. — Ed.] 

247. I see . . . you are] For the construction, compare, ' Conceal me what I 
am,* I, ii, 58 ; or Abbott, § 414. 

253. With . . . teares] From the days of Pope, the metre of this line has been 
supposed to be defective. M alone, at Brst (1790), would not acquiesce in Pope's 
Ttrith ; he pronounced * adorations * as of five syllables, and ' tears * as of two, — the 
true scansion, I think, if we are to scan with our fingers ; but he afterward surren- 
dered to Pope. Dyce (ed. i) pronounces the omission of the second with (i. e. 
Pope's with) * a mistake, as the context (to say nothing of the metre) plainly shows.* 
Walker (Crit. iii, 84) is sure that 'a word or words are lost before "adorations," 
involving the same metaphor as the rest of the two lines.* Adopting this suggestion, 
the Cambridge Editors conjecture that * perhaps the lost word may have been 
earthward or earthly, so that all the four elements "of which our life consists** 
(II, iii, 11) would be represented in the symptoms of Orsino's passion.* Earthly 
would be good, if it did not somewhat degrade ' adorations,* which are generally 
supposed to be heavenly. Abbott (§ 505) ingeniously transposes, to follow * tears,* 
the ' With * at the beginning of the next line. This, however, obliges him to pro- 
nounce *gro-ans' as a disyllable, which is no better than Malone's ' te-ars.' Abbott 
adds, very justly, * But the enumerative character of the verse (§ 509) may justify it 
as it stands.* This is, I think, the true solution. After 'adorations,* pronounced 
either as four syllables or five, there is one of those mora vacua of the old proso- 
dists, empty pauses, which emotion and due dramatic elocution demand, and makes 
up to the ear the loss of a metric foot. These pauses are for ever stumbling blocks 
to the silent reader of Shakespeare, but never to the actor. — Ed. 

253. fertill] Walker ( Crit, iii, 84) : This is, I think, copious, as e, g. Hamlet, 
I, ii, ' No, nor the fruitful river in the eye.* 

90 TWELFE NIGHT [act i, sc. v. 

With groanes that thunder loue, with fighes of fire. 

O/.Your Lord does know my mind, I cannot loue him 255 

Yet I fuppofe him vertuous, know him noble, 
Of great eftate, of frefti and ftainleffe youth ; 
In voyces well divulg'd, free, learn'd,and valiant, 
And in dimenfion, and the fhape of nature, 

A gracious perfon ; But yet I cannot loue him : 260 

He might haue tooke his anfwer long ago. 

Vio. If I did loue you in my mafters flame, 
With fuch a fufifring, fuch a deadly life : 263 

259. the Jhape\JhapeY^^, 260. But yei]\yet Pope, Han. 

254. thunder] Malone : Compare, ' O, that forced thunder from his heart did 
fly.' — Lover's Complaint^ 325. 

256-260. Yet I suppose ... I cannot loue him] Spedding [Fraser's Maga, 
Aug., 1865, p. 261) : These lines are left out in the acting, which is surely a great 
mistake. As addressed by Olivia to Viola, they have a peculiar and pathetic mean- 
ing, and it is strange that the mixed emotions which they must have excited in her 
should not have been made one of the ' points ' in the play. 

258. voyces well divulg'd] Malone : That is, well spoken of by the world.^ 
Steevens : So, in Timon^ IV, iii, 81, 'the Athenian minion, whom the world 
Voic'd so regardfully.' — W. A. Wright : By public acclamation held of good 
repute. G>mpare CorioL II, ii, 144, *the p>eople Must have their voices.* And 
Jul. Cas. II, i, 146, *And buy men's voices to commend our deeds.' — Deighton ; 
This seems to me to be connected with the rest of the line, /. e. well spoken of by 
the world as being free (gracious), learned, and valiant. Having first referred to 
what she can only assume regarding the Duke, sc, his virtue, Olivia goes on to men- 
tion what she knows as facts, viz. that he is of noble birth and fortune, that his 
youth has been blamelessly spent, that he is spoken of as gracious, learned, and 
valiant, that his personal appearance is handsome. His being free, learned, and 
valiant would be a matter of opinion, his being considered so would be a matter of 
fact within her knowledge. 

258. free] Compare Othello^ III, iii, 228, * I would not haue your free and Noble 
Nature,' etc. See, also, *free maides,* II, iv, $3, post. 

259. dimension] That is, bodily proportion. — Rolfe : See V, i, 252, * that 
dimension,' the only other example of the singular in Shakespeare. 

260. gracious] Abbott (p. 498) refers to King John ^ 'There was not such a 
gracious creature bom,' III, iv, 81. 

262. in] W. A. Wright : 'In * is here used very much like the French en. 

263. deadly life] Hudson, whose text reads deadly love^^ thinks * life * 'a very 
evident misprint ; yet it has waited a good while to be corrected.* — Deighton : 
That is, with such a painful and fatal vitality of love ; * deadly life ' for the sake of 
the antithesis; compare Hen. V : IV, ii, 54, *To demonstrate the life of such a 
battle In life so lifeless as it shows itself.' [To me, * deadly love^ is meaningless. 
* Deadly * is the climax of * suffering ' ; a * deadly life ' is a life of suffering extended 
even to its last limit, death. — Ed.] 

ACT I, sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 91 

In your deniall, I would finde no fence, 

I would not vnderftand it. 265 

OL Why, what would you ? 

Vio. Make me a willow Cabine at your gate, 
And call vpon my foule within the houfe. 
Write loyall Cantons of contemned loue. 

And fmg them lowd euen in the dead of night : 270 

Hallow your name to the reuerberate hilles. 
And make the babling Gofsip of the aire. 
Cry out Oliuia : O you (hould not reft 
Betweene the elements of ayre, and earth, 
But you (hould pittie me. 275 

266. Why,'\ Om. Han. FjF^, Rowe, + , Cap. HoUoo Var. '73. 
you /] you doe ? FjF^, Rowc, + . Haloo Var. '78, Ran. Var. '85. Halloo 

267. CaHne\ Cabin F^. Coll. Cam. Rife, Dtn, Wh. ii. Holla 

269. Cantons\ Cantos Rowe ii, + , Mai. et cet 

Var. '73, '78, Ran. canzons Cap. 271. to the\ to F^. 

270. dead'\ dread F F^. reuerberate"] reverberant Theob. 

271. Hallow] Hollow F,. Hollow Han. Johns. 

267. willow] Of course, with the suggestion of the willow as an emblem of for- 
saken or of rejected love. It were superfluous to quote Desdemona's song, or the 
allusions in Much Ado. 

269. Write, etc.] See Lamb's note on Mrs Jordan's acting, H, iv, 118. 

269. Cantons] Malone : There is no need of alteration. ' Canton ' was used 
for canto in our author's time. So, in The London Prodigal^ 1605 : * What-do-you- 
call-him hath it there in his third canton.' [Ill, ii, p. 489, Var. 1780.] Again, in 
Heywood's Preface to Britaynes Trey, 1609: * — in the judicial perusal of these 
few cantons,' etc. — W. A. Wright notes that this latter work is described in the 
title-page as ' A Poem deuided into xvii. seuerall cantons.' 

271. reuerberate] Steevens : Theobald's emendation is unnecessary. Jonson, 
in one of his Masques, says : ' which skill, Pythagoras First taught to men by a 
reverberate glass.' [^Mas^ue of Blackness, p. IS, ed. Gifford.] — Holt White, in 
support of 'reverberate' quotes the following line from Heywood's Troja Britan- 
nica, 1609, canto xi, st. 9 : ' Give shrill reverberate echoes and rebounds.' Rich- 
ardson {Diet,) quotes from Drayton's Polyolbion, Song ix, 55 : ' The loftie Hills . . . 
Sent forth such ecchoing shoutes (which every way so shrill With the reuerberate 
sound the spacious ayre did fill) '; and also from Bacon's Naturall Historic, § 261 : 
' Both audibles and visibles will be reverberate ; as in mirrours and in ecchos.' But, 
as W. A. Wright observes, in regard to the quotations from Hey wood and from 
Drayton (and the same is true of that from Bacon also) that in these cases ' rever- 
berate ' is passive and not active. Ben Jonson, however, uses the word actively, and 
this is sufficient. 'Similarly,* says Wright, * in Coriol. I, i, 106, "participate" 
is equivalent to participant ; and in Hamlet, I, i, 83, " emulate" has an active 
sense.' — Ed. 

275. But] See line 149, above. 

92 TWELFE NfpHT [act i, sc. v. 

OL You might do much : 276 

What is your Parentage ? 

Vio. Aboue my fortunes, yet my ftate is well : 
I am a Gentleman. 

OL Get you to your Lord : 280 

I cannot loue him : let him fend no more, 
Vnleffe(perchance) you come to me againe. 
To tell me how he takes it : Fare you well : 
I thanke you for your paines : fpend this for mee. 

Vio. I am no feede poaft, Lady; keepe your purfe, 285 

My Mafter, not my felfe, lackes recompence. 
Loue make his heart of flint, that you fhal loue, 
And let your feruour like my mafters be, 
Plac'd in contempt : Farwell fayre crueltie. Exit 

OL What is your Parentage ? 290 

Aboue my fortunes, yet my ftate is well ; 
I am a Gentleman. He be fwome thou art, 
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbes, aftions, and fpirit, 
Do giue thee fiue-fold blazon : not too faft : foft, foft, 
Vnlefle the Mafter were the man. How now ? 295 

276, 277. Two lines, Ff, Rowe, + , 288. feruour ,., mafter 5\ fervour^,., 

Var. *73, Wh. Cam. Rife, Dtn. One master' Sj Theob. 

line, Cap. et cet. 294. /offy/ofi,'] soft; Cap. Separate 

285. no feede poaji^ no feede-poaft F,. line, Dyce ii, iii, Huds. 

no-feed pofi F^. no feed-poft F^, Pope. 295. A/after were the man"] man the 

nofee'd-post Rowe. no fee* d post Theob. master were (ending lines 294-297, fast 

el seq. ...7vere... catch,.. perfections) Han. 

285. feede poast] That is, hired messenger. The compositors of the Folios 
seem to have been puzzled over it. 

287. his . . . that] For the construction, see * their . . . that,* II, iv, 103-105 ; 
or Abbott, § 218, for other examples of possessive pronouns as antecedents to 

290, 292. your . . . thou] Note the dawning of love in this change from you to 
thou. — Ed. 

294. blazon] A description, according to the rules of Heraldry, of armorial bear- 
ings ; hence the transferred sense of a record or description of any kind. See Much 
AdOy II, i, 282, with note, in this ed. if needful. 

294. soft, soft] Dyce made a separate line of these words ; K. Elze prefixes 
them to the next line, and makes * How now ?' a separate line, — both equally effica- 
cious in relieving the eye from the dread sight of an Alexandrine, which the ear does 
not, or should not, hear. — Ed. 

295. the Master . . . roan] Capell (p. 143) : These words are ranged con- 
trary to expectation ; * man * is looked for where ' master' stands now : the sense is 
much the same either way ; but by this arrangement the speaker contrives to cheat 


Euen fo quickly may one catch the plague ? 296 

Me thinkes I feele this youths perfeftions 
With an inuifible, and fubtle Health 
To creepe in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. 
What hoa, Mabiolio. 3CX) 

Enter Maluolio. 

MaL Heere Madam, at your feruice. 

OL Run after that fame peeuifli Meffenger 
The Countes man : he left this Ring behinde him 
Would I, or not : tell him, He none of it. 305 

Defire him not to flatter with his Lord, 

299. f/^^.] iV^^— Rowe, + . 304. CVwn/w] Counts Ff. Duke 5 

yxi. >4^tf] ^<>Theob.* Rowe, + . Count his Ktly. Countes 

301. Maluolio.] Maholio, — Theob. Cap. ct cet 

Warb. Johns. left] left here Han. 

herself into an opinion that the declaration is less humiliating ; ' were the man * is — 
were like the man. — M alone : Unless the dignity of the master were added to the 
merit of the ser\'anty I shall go too far, and disgrace myself. Let me stop in time. — 
Stkevens : Perhaps she means to check herself by observing, — ' This is unbecoming 
forwardness on my part, unless I were as much in love with the master as I am with 
the man.' — Rolfe : Olivia evidently wishes that the master and man could change 
places, but just what she would have said if she had not checked herself we need 
not trouble ourselves to guess. — W. A. Wright (in reference to Hanmer's text) : 
But Olivia does not wish that the man had the rank and dignity of the master, but 
that the master had the attractiveness of the man. [In ' unless ' there lies a train 
of thought which passes through Olivia's mind ' as swift as meditation or the thoughts 
of love.' The word ' blazon,' with its suggestion of high nobility, recalls the Duke 
to her. She instantly remembers that she has utterly rejected him. Was she therein 
true to herself ? Could she really never love him? No, she could not — unless — 
unless he were like his man. By this flash of light she perceives that she has caught 
the * infection of the eye.' — Ed.] 

297. perfe(5tions] See I, i, 44. 

299. To creepe] As to the construction, see Abbott (§ 549) for examples of the 
insertion, and of the omission, of ' to ' after verbs of perceiving, and after have need, 
and after let in the sense of suffering and of hindering. The following examples 
occur in the present play : ' Thou hadst need send,' II, iii, 176 ; 'I had rather hear 
you to solicit that,' III, i, no; *I my brother know Yet living,' III, iv, 381 (see 
Abbott, p. 25 1 ) ; < If nothing lets to make vs,' V, i, 264. 

303. peeuish] Dyce [Gloss^ : This appears to have generally signified, during 
Shakespeare's days, silly , foolish, trifling, etc.; though, no doubt, the word was for- 
merly used to signify, as novt, pettish, perverse, etc. — Collier : In this place Olivia 
may wish Malvolio not to perceive that she takes any interest about so insignificant 
a person as 'the county's man.' [Whatever the precise meaning, Malvolio repeats 
the word when he delivers the ring.] 

305. Would I, or not] For this subjunctive, see Abbott, § 361. 

94 TWELFE NIGHT [actii. sc.i. 

Nor hold him vp with hopes, I am not for him : 307 

If that the youth will come this way to morrow, 
He giue him reafons for^t : hie thee Maluolio. 

MaL Madam, I will. Exit. 310 

OL I do I know not what, and feare to finde 
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my minde : 
Fate, fhew thy force, our felues we do not owe, 
What is decreed, muft be : and be this fo. 

Finis ^ Alius primus. 315 

A6lus Secundus , Sccena prima. 

Enter Antonio & Sebq/iian. 2 

Ant. Will you ftay no longer : nor will you not that 
I go with you. 4 

309. rea/ons far' t: huthee]¥^ {svhs.) 315. primus] primi Ff. 

reafonsfo^tbythee^Y^, reajfon for' t by The Street. Rowe. The Sea- 

/A/^, F^, Rowe. reason for' t, Hye thee coast. Cap. 

Pope, Han. reasons forU. Hye thee 3,4. longer ,.. youJ] longer :,.. you f 

Theob. et seq. ^a^a* longer K,. you ? F^ et seq. 

315. Om. Rowe et seq. 

306. flatter with] See Abbott, § 194, for examples of the use of with after 
verbs, where we should use a different preposition, or even none at all. 
308. If that] For the construction, see I, ii, 52. 

312. Mine eye, etc.] Johnson : I believe the meaning is : I am not mistress of 
my own actions ; I am afraid that my eyes betray me, and flatter the youth without 
my consent, with discoveries of love. — M. Mason : Johnson's explanation is evi- 
dently wrong. . . . The true meaning appears to be this : ' She fears that her eyes 
had formed so flattering an idea of Cesario, that she should not have strength of 
mind suflicient to resist the impression.' She had just before said that she felt the 
youth's perfections creep in at her eyes. — Malone : I think the meaning is, *I fear 
that my eyes will seduce my understanding ; that I am indulging a passion for this 
beautiful youth, which my reason cannot approve.' — Harness : Her mindy here used 
for hearty had fixed itself on Viola, and her eye flattered her mind by discovering in 
the object of affection more than her true merits. — Halliwell : This seems to 
mean, I fear it will turn out that my eye will indulge me in wishes and expectations, 
so that it will overpower my judgement. W. A. Wright expresses it concisely : 
* my mind will be unable to resist the too favourable impression which my eyes have 

313. owe] That is, own, possess. See Shakespeare /rtrmw. 

2. Marshall : This scene in [Irving' s] acting- version, becomes scene ii. of Act 
ni.; thus the action of the play is rendered more consecutive. 

3. nor . . . not] For double negatives, see Abbott, § 406 ; or Shakespeare 

ACT 11. sc. L] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 95 

Seb. By your patience^ no : my ftarres fliine darkely 5 

Guer me ; the malignancie of my fate, might perhaps di- 
ftemper yours ; therefore I (hall craue of you your leaue, 
that I may beare my euils alone. It were a bad recom- 
pence for your loue, to lay any of them on you. 

AnXxX me yet know of you, whither you are bound. 10 

Seb. No footh fir : my determinate voyage is meere 
extrauagancie.But I perceiue in you fo excellent a touch 12 

7. yours\ your' s CqW. ii. ^sooth Cap. Mai. Stccv. Var. Knt, CoU. 

IJhall^ I Rowe, Pope, Han. Hal. Ktly. 

II. footh] in sooth Johns. Var. Ran. 

5. By your patience] Deighton : If you will suffer it to be so. [It has a 
deeper meaning than simply * by your leave/ which Sebastian uses shortly after ; it 
is used in the present sense by the aged Gonzalo when he entreats his companions 
to bear with his weariness, Temff. Ill, iii, 3.— Ed.] 

6. malignancie] The reference to the stars suggests this astrological term, and, 
possibly, * distemper.' Compare / Hen. VI: IV, v, 6 : * O malignant and ill-boding 
stars !* In Mid. N. D. II, i, 1 10, Titania ascribes * distemperature ' to the influence 
of the Moon. — Ed. 

7. craue of you your leaue] Compare for the construction, ' I shall desire you 
of more acquaintance,' in Mid. N. D. Ill, i, 188, and only a few lines further on 
'I shall desire of you more acquaintance.' The present text shows that the phrase 
in the latter quotation from Afid. N. D. is not a possible misprint, as was there too 
hastily suggested by the present — Ed. 

10. bound] Murray (A^. E. D. s. v. * Bound' participial adjective) : An adopted 
form of Old Norse bdinn, Norwegian bUen pmst participle of biia to get ready, 
appearing first in the north as hUn^ afterwards in Middle English boun ; the added 
d in the modem form may be due in part to its being regarded as the past participle 
of the derived verb BouN, and in part to confusion with Bound participial adjective 
equivalent to obliged ; but compare other instances as in Mahound^ sound, com- 
pound, astound, for Mahoun, soun, compoun, astoun, also the vulgar gownd, 
drownd, etc. [The definition, which applies to the present word, is under 2 :] 
Prepared or purposing to go, starting, directing one's course, destined. [See * bound,' 

in, i, 77.] 

11. sooth] The Text. Notes show that many an editor has followed Capell's lead 
in printing this as though it were a contraction for in sooth. * Tlie full phrase,' says 
W. A. Wright, * is in sooth or in good sooth, both which are of common occurrence, 
and both are used without the preposition.' 

11, 12. determinate . . . extrauagancie] W. A. Wright: Sebastian says, 
his most settled plan of travelling is mere vagrancy. [Both words are used in their 
derivative Latin sense. See Hamlet, * The extravagant and erring spirit hies To 
bis confine.' I, i, 154.] 

12. touch] Schmidt (Lex.) is somewhat astray in defining this present use of 
' touch ' as ' dash, spice, smack ' ; ' touch ' is more refined than these rude words. 
W. A. Wright defines it by * delicate feeling,' and quotes in proof the following 
appropriate examples : Mid. N. D. Ill, ii, 2S6 : * Have you no modesty, no maiden 

96 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. L 

of modeftie, that you will not extort from me, what I am 1 3 

willing to keepe in : therefore it charges me in manners, 

the rather to expreffe my felfe : you muft know of mee 15 

then Antonio , my name is Scbajlian (which I call'd Rodo- 

rigo) my father was that Sebajlian of MeJfalinCy whom I 

know you haue heard of. He left behinde him, my felfe, 

and a filler, both borne in an houre : if the Heanens had 

beene pleas'd, would we had fo ended. But you fir, al- 20 

ter'd that, for fome houre before you tooke me from the 

breach of the fea, was my fifter drown'd. 

A71L Alas the day. 

Scb. A Lady fir, though it was faid ftiee much refem- 24 

16, 17. Rodorigo] RoderigoV2x.'*T^^ 19. Hianens\ F,. 

Coll. Cam. Sta. 21. houre\ houres F^. houn F^, 

17. Meflaline] Mettaline Knt, conj. Rowe, Pope, Han. 

19. an houre\ one hour F F^, 22. brcach'\ beech Grey (i, 226). 

Rowe, + . 24. though'\ whoy th(f Hao. 

shame, No touch of bashful ness ?' ; Tempest^ V, i, 21 : 'Hast thou, which art but 
air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions?'; And Cymb. I, i, 135 : < I am senseless 
of your wrath ; a touch more rare Subdues all pangs, all fears.' 

15. expresse] Johnson : That is, to reveal myself. — Halliwell : Thus, in 
Kendall's Flowers of Epigrammes^ 1577 : *When thei had robde h)Tn of his coine. 
Quoth one among the reste, — My maisters, let us cutte his throte. For feare we be 

16. 17. which I caird Rodorigo] R. G. White (ed. ii): Why, does not appear. 
It would seem that there must be an allusion to some story or play of which we know 
nothing. Indeed the whole of this scene has the air of one worked up out of another, 
particularly in the Captain's speeches, which contain matter superfluous and foreign 
to the interest of the play as we have it. 

17. Messaline] Inasmuch as this locality is unknown to geographers, Hanmer 
changed it to Metelin^ (the modem name, as Capell points out, of Mitylene^ utterly 
regardless of the identity of Sebastian's father, who, we may be very sure, was never 
in Metelin in his life. He was * Sebastian of Messaline,' and if we do not know 
where Messaline was, it merely proves that we know less than the Captain of the 
ship, — an ignorance which is not humiliating. I think Messaline was the chief town 
on Prospero's island. — Ed. 

19. in an houre] For this use of a or an for onc^ see Shakespeare and early 
literature passsim ; or Abbott, § 81. 

21. some houre] See Abbott (§21) for examples of 'some' qualifying nouns 
of time. 

22. breach] Steevens : That is, what we now call the breaking of the sea. In 
Periclesy II, i, 161, it is called * the rupture of the sea.' [It is 'rupture' in the 
Qq and F^F^, according to the Cam. Ed., but modern editors follow Rowe ii, in 
reading 'rapture.* The 'breach of the sea ' is where, as Tennyson says in Enoch 
Ardeny 'the league-long rollers thunder on the beach.' — Ed.] 

Acrii.sci.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 97 

bled me, was yet of many accounted beautifuhbut thogh 25 

I could not with fuch eftimable wonder ouer-farre be- 

26. fucK^ muck Cartwrigfat. 26. <mer-farre\ trverfar Johns. 

24. though] For the omission of the relative, see, if need be, I, ▼, 99. Hanmer 
inserted it. 

26. such estimable wonder, etc.] Warburton : An interpolation of the 
players. — ^Johnson : But what did the players gain by it ? they may sometimes be 
guilty of a joke without ^the concurrence of the poet, but they never lengthen a 
speech only to make it longer. Shakespeare often confounds the active and passive 
adjectives. * Estimable wonder * is esteeming wonder y or wonder and esteem. The 
meaning is, that he could not venture to think so highly as others of his sister. — 
Heath (p. 188) : That is, with an admiration that held her in as high account as 
they did who thought her beautiful ; or, in short, with so high a degree of admira- 
tion. — Capell (p. 144) : The sense is briefly this, — with such wonder in my esteem ; 
'tis a peculiarity of the poet's, and his adjective a coinage. [In 1853 Collier 
published his Notes and Emendations^ etc., from MS Corrections in a copy of the 
Second Folio ; in this volume, with the pardonable zeal of a discoverer, he set forth 
the emendations in a somewhat dogmatic tone, which seems to have stirred pro- 
foundly the whole Shakespearian world. (May I be pardoned if I here say, paren- 
thetically, that I have entire faith in Collier as an honourable man ? If there were 
any fraud connected with this Folio, or with the State Papers, the Bridgewater, 
or the Dulwich collections, I believe Collier to have been the victim, and not 
the perpetrator.) In the present passage, there was, in his Folio, this correction : 
*I could not with self-estimation wander so far to believe that, yet* etc.; to this 
he added the following note : ' May we conclude, that this new and self-evident 
improvement of the absurd old reading was derived from some original source, per- 
haps from some better manuscript than that employed by the old printer of the Folio, 
1623, which was exactly followed in the Folio, 1632? Such an emendation could 
hardly be the result of mere guess-work.' Five years later, in his Second Edition, 
Collier was even more emphatic in his approval of this emendation ; he adopted it 
in his text, and not only pronounced it ' one of the most excellent emendations ' in 
the annotated Folio, but asserted that it 'must inevitably be right.' Other critics, 
however, did not share Collier's assurance. R. G. White pronounced the change 
* most pitifull,' and a Reviewer (said to be Lettsom, but I doubt) in Blackwood* s 
Afaga. (Aug., 1853) asserts that it is * certainly a very bad piece of tinkering,' and 
asks, ' who can believe that Shakespeare would wander so far in his speech as to write 
in such a roundabout feckless fashion as this ?' In the meantime, the interest excited 
by Collier's Second Folio arouted Singer, who found that he possessed two anno- 
tated Folios, a Second and a Third, and for the MS corrections therein he claimed con- 
sideration. In the present passage, his annotator had made the following change : * I 
could not, with such estimators, wander overfar to believe that, yet,' etc. This 
emendation Singer pronounced 'a much better rectification of the passage' than 
Collier's. Dyce (ed. i) agrees with the Blackwood critic that Collier's change is 
'a very bad piece of tinkering,' and then adds that Singer's change * comes under 
the same description.' Singer's reading, however, < struck' Bailey (i, 204) <as an 
improvement,' and, after he had changed in it, estimators into estima/Cf he con- 
sidered that it made 'passable sense.' — Halliwell : In other words, though I 
could not altogether agree with such a high degree of admiration. — R. G. White 


98 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. i. 

leeue that, yet thus farre I will boldly publifh her, fhee 2J 

bore a minde that enuy could not but call faire : Shee is 
drown'd already fir with fait water, though I feeme to 
drowne her remembrance againe with more. 30 

Ant. Pardon me fir, your bad entertainment. 

Seb. O good Antonio^ forgiue me your trouble. 
AnU If you will not murther me for my loue, let me e 
be your feruant 34 

28. enuy could not buf^ envy itself 33. murther\ murder Stecv. et seq. 

would Cap. conj. (excq)t Knt, Wh. i.) 

(ed. i) : When we remember the sense in which Shakespeare uses * capable impres- 
sure,* — As You Like It^ III, v, 23, * intenible sieve,* — AWs fVell, I, iii, 208, and 

* something that is deceivable,* in this very play, IV, iii, 23, we have no difficulty in 
understanding Sebastian, when, with manly modesty, he says of the beauty attributed 
to the sister who so much resembled him, * though I could not, with such estimable 
(esteeming) wonder, over£ar believe thaty and adds, * yet thus far I will boldly publish 
her;' etc. — Walker (Crit. i, 187) quotes the present * estimable* among his exam- 
ples where * adjectives in -able and -ible, both positive and negative ones, are frequently 
used by old writers in an active sense.* — Dyce (ed. ii) : The late Mr W. W. 
Williams (under the signature W. D. ) writes thus in The Literary Gazette for 
March 29, 1862, p. 310 : 'I would submit that, if Sebastian's speech be read care- 
fully, it will require no long pondering to perceive that he is modestly deprecating 
any comparison of himself with such a beautiful girl as his sister. If this be the 
purport of the words, — and there can hardly be a doubt about it, — the simple inser- 
tion of the indefinite article will meet all the necessities of the case. Read as fol- 
lows, and all difficulty vanishes : * though I could not, with such an estimable 
wonder [/. e. when compared with such an admirable woman], overfar believe that, 
yet ' etc. [Hudson adopted this emendation.] — W. A. Wright : * Such estimable 
wonder* means 'with the admiration which influenced such a judgement.' [The 
general meaning seems plain to every one, from Johnson downward ; the chief diffi- 
culty seems to have been found in accepting < estimable * in an active sense, and 

* wonder' in the sense of admiration. — Ed.] 

30. with more] Steevens : Compare Hamlet ^ IV, vii, 186: *Too much water 
hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.' 

33, 34. If you . . . scruant] Knight : We think that these words have a latent 
meaning, and they allude to a superstition of which Sir Walter Scott has made such 
admirable use in The Pirate, Our readers will remember that, when Mordaunt has 
rescued Cleveland from *the breach of the sea,' and is endeavouring to restore the 
animation of the perishing man, he is thus reproved by Bryce, the pedlar : *Are you 
mad? you, that have lived so long in Zetland, to risk the saving of a drowning 
man ? Wot ye not, if you bring him to life again, he will be sure to do you some 
capital injury ?' Sir Walter Scott has a note upon this passage : * It is remarkable 
that, in an archipelago where so many persons must be necessarily endangered by the 
waves, so strange and inhuman a maxim should have engrafted itself upon the minds 
of a people otherwise kind, moral, and hospitable. But all with whom I have 
spoken agree that it was almost general in the beginning of the eighteenth century^ 

Acrn. sc.ii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 99 

Seb. If you will not vndo what you haue done, that is 35 

kill him, whom you haue recouer^d, defire it not. Fare 
ye well at once, my bofome is full of kindneffe, and I 
am yet fo neere the manners of my mother,that vpon the 
leaft occaflon more, mine eyes will tell tales of me : I am 
bound to the Count Orfmo's Court,farewell. Exit 40 

Ant, The gentleneffe of all the gods go with thee : 
I haue many enemies in Orfmo^s Court, 
Elfe would I very fliortly fee thee there : 
But come what may, I do adore thee fo, - 
That danger fhall feeme fport, and I will go. Exit. 45 

Sccena Secunda. 

Enter Viola and Maluolioy atfeueraU doores. 2 

MaLWcre not you eu'n now, with the Counteffe O- 
liuia? 4 

40. Count"] Duke ^avft^-¥, 2. Enter...] Enter Viola, Malvolio 
farnoeW] farwel F^. following. Cap. ct scq. 

41. all the] the ¥ ^. 3. rt^«] e'en Rowe, + , Wh. even 

42. many] made F^F^, Rowe, + . Cap. et seq. 
A Street. Cap. 

and was with difficulty weeded out by the sedulous instructions of the clergy and the 
rigorous injunctions of the proprietors. There is litUe doubt it had been originally 
introduced as an excuse for suffering those who attempted to escape from the wreck 
to perish unassisted, so that, there being no survivor, she might be considered as 
lawful plunder.* It appears to us, however, if we do not mistake the meaning of 
our text, that the superstition was not confined to the Orkneys in the time of Shake- 
speare. Why should Sebastian murder Antonio for his love if this superstition were 
not alluded to ? Indeed, the answer of Sebastian distinctly refers to the office of 
humanity which Antonio had rendered him, and appears to glance at the superstition 
as if he perfectly understood what Antonio meant : * If you will not undo what you 
have done, that is, kill Aim whom you have recaveredy desire it not.' The vulgar 
opinion is here reversed. — W. A. Wright : But Antonio seems only to appeal to 
Sebastian not to kill him as a reward for his love by abandoning him. — Deighton : 
That is, I shall die if you refuse to let me serve you. [I think that Wright and 
Deighton give the just interpretation. — Ed.] 

38. mother] Malone : Compare Hen, V: IV, vi, 30 : ' But I had not so much 
of man in me, And all my mother came into my eyes.' 

2. Enter...] Collier : Malvolio may be supposed to be coming out of Olivia's 
house, but Viola must necessarily be in the street, having lately quitted the presence 
of Olivia. 

3. eu'n] By changing this to even^ as nearly all modem editors have done, under 

100 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. iL 

Vio. Euen now fir, on a moderate pace, I haue fince a- 5 

riu'd but hither. 

Med She returnes this Ring to you (fir) you might 
haue faued mee my paines, to haue taken it away your 
felfe.She adds moreouer,that you fliould put your Lord 
into a defperate aflurance, (he will none of him.And one 10 

thing more, that you be neuer fo hardie to come againe 
in his affaires, vnleffe it bee to report your Lords taking 
of this : receiue it fo. 13 

5. Jlr^ ,„pace^ sir; ,„pace^ Rowe. lo. into] in F F^, Rowe i. 

sir;,., pace Pope et seq. Jhe „,him,\ she is not for him, K. 

7. (y?r)] Sir ; Rowe. sir; she will Elze. 

tume of your lord^ s ring K. Elze. him.'\ him. Han. 

Capell's lead, I think an undue emphasis is given to it. It has escaped notice, I 
suppose, that 'you' is the emphatic word, and that 'e'en now* should receive no 
stress. When, however, Viola replies, then the 'e'en' becomes emphatic, and is 
pronounced, in full, ' Even,' and with deliberation, — a form of assent more courteous 
than a blunt 'ay' or 'yes.' — Ed. 

5. sir, . . . pace,] Pope's punctuation is an improvement on Rowe's. 

5. on] See Abbott (§ 180, p. 119) for other examples where 'the metaphorical 
uses of on have now been mostly divided between of in, and at, etc' 

7. (sir)] Although Olivia bade Malvolio run after the County's man, with the 
ring, and 'tell him I'll none of it,' Malvolio did not repeat these very words of the 
message ; he changed ' it ' into him ; and yet Viola in her soliloquy (line 26) repeats 
them substantially: 'None of my Lord's ring?' Wherefore, in order to explain 
Viola's knowledge of Olivia's words, Hanmer inserted in Malvolio' s speech, after 
the present ' sir ' : for being your Lord*s she *ll none of it. I suppose that this was 
his object ; he has no note of explanation. — Ed. 

8. to haue taken it] That is, by taking it. See ' conclusions to be as lasses,' 
V, i, 22. For many examples of the infinitive thus used indefinitely, see Abbott, 


10. desperate assurance] This is Mai volio's version, correct enough, of Olivia's 
words ' nor hold him up with hopes.' — Ed. 

11. so hardie to come] Compare ' no woman's heart So bigge to hold,' II, iv, 
loi ; ' so much a sinner to be a double dealer,' V, i, 34 ; and for other examples of 
the omission of as after so, see Abbott, § 281, p. 192. 

13. receiue it so] Capell evidently interpreted Malvolio's words 'to report 
your Lord's taking of this' as referring to the taking of this, the ring, instead of 
referring to the whole message ; he changed ' receive it so * into ' receive it, sir.' 
This is ingenious ; because Viola at once refers to the ring, and takes no notice of 
the rest of the message ; at the same time, it is quite possible that Collier is right 
in saying that ' receive it so ' is equivalent to understand or take it so, probably 
without reference to the ring. See ' To one of your receiving,' that is, to one of 
your capacity for understanding, III, i, 122. — Ed. 


Vio, She tooke the Ring of me, He none of it. 14 

14, the Ring of me^ Ile\ Ff (TU Coll. i, ii, Hal. not the ring of me ; F II 

FjF^), Rowe, + . the ring of me / I'll Ktly. no ring ofmei—ril Mai. conj. 

Anon. Mai. Var. '21. the ring of me, Dyce ii, iii. Coll. iii (MS), Hads. the 

ril Knt, Wh. i. the ring of me l—Pll ring of me; PU Steev. et cet. 

14. tooke ... of it] Malone : This passage has been hitherto thus pointed : 
•She took the ring of me ; 1*11 none of it* [see Sleevens, Text. Note"] which ren- 
ders it, as it appears to me, quite unintelligible. The punctuation now adopted : 
* She took the ring of me ! — I'll none of it,* was suggested by an ingenious friend, 
and certainly renders the line less exceptionable : yet I cannot but think there is some 
corruption in the text. Had our author intended such a mode of speech, he would 
probably have written: 'She took a ring of me! — 1*11 none of it.* Malvolio*s 
answer seems to intimate that Viola had said she had not given any ring. We ought, 
therefore, perhaps, to read : * She took no ring of me ! — I'll none of it.* [Thus, 
Collier's MS.] So afterwards : • I left no ring with her.* Viola expressly denies her 
having given Olivia any ring. How then can she assert, as she is made to do by the 
old regulation of the passage, that the lady had received one from her? [To this 
note, Malone added in his ed. 1790 the following, which he afterward withdrew : 
' it has occurred to me that the latter part of the line may have been corrupt, as well 
as the former ; our author may have written : 'She took this ring of me I She* 11 
none of it!*] — Stesvens : I do not perceive the necessity of the change recom- 
mended. Viola finding the ring sent after her, accompanied by a fiction, is prepared 
to meet it with another. — Knight : Viola would screen Olivia from the suspicions 
of her own servant. The lady has said that the ring was left with her ; and Viola 
has too strong a respect for her own sex to proclaim the truth. She makes up her 
mind during Malvolio*s speech to refuse the ring ; but not to expose the cause of 
her refusal. [To the same effect, substantially, R. G. White (ed. i), and also 
Spedding. ] — Halliwell : A note of admiration after ' me * [Malone* s punctuation] 
best expresses the author* s intention, which was no doubt to make Viola utter an 
exclamation of surprise, equivalent to saying, is it possible any one can say she took 
the ring of me ? Besides, the real truth of the matter is not suspected by Viola until 
afterwards, and she is too much taken by surprise to imagine a subterfuge that would 
fit the occasion. — Collier (ed. ii) : There is no need [of the change made in the 
MS, which] accords with Malone* s suggestion. After Malvolio has gone out, and 
Viola* s surprise is past, she quietly observes, * I left no ring with her,* and it is 
immediately followed by the statement of her suspicion regarding Olivia* s passion. 
— Dyce (ed. i) : I agree with Steevens and Knight that the old text is uncomipted. 
— Dyce (ed. ii, wherein he adopts Malone* s punctuation, which is the same as Col- 
lier's MS) : I formerly retained [the text of the Folio.] I now think it quite wrong, 
and that what has been said in defence of it is ridiculously over-subtle. [After this 
conversion of the arch-enemy of Collier* s MS, Collier took heart of grace, and 
adopted, in his Third Edition, the change here made by his MS.] — Spedding 
(Fraser's Maga., August, 1865, p. 265) : This passage has always appeared to us 
one of the finest touches in the play. When Malvolio overtakes Viola with the 
ring . . . her immediate answer is : * She took the ring of me : I'll none of it.* Now, 
as she had not left any ring, it has been thought that there must be some mistake 

102 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. ii. 

Med. Come fir, you peeuiflily threw it to her : and 1 5 

her will is, it fhould be fo returned : If it bee worth (loo- 
ping for, there it lies, in your eye : if not, bee it his that 
findes it. Exit. 

Vio, I left no Ring with her : what meanes this Lady? 
Fortune forbid my out-fide haue not charm'd her : 20 

here. . . . But it is plain from Malvolio's reply, *Come, sir, you peevishly threw it 
to her,' etc., that he understood her to mean that she hcui left it. And so no doubt 
she did. For though taken quite by surprise, and not knowing at first what it 
exactly meant, she saw at once thus much, — that the message contained a secret of 
some kind which had not been confided to the messenger ; and with her quick wit 
and S3rmpathetic delicacy suppressed the surprise which might have betrayed it — 
RoLFE (Literary Worlds 8 March, 1884) learns from a friend that Madame Mod- 
jeska 'assumes that Viola speaks as one half-bewildered by Malvolio's assurance, 
and on the stage utters the sentence interrogatively, *' She took the ring of me? " 
[Thus also Miss Kate Terry. — ap, Spedding] as if in doubt of his meaning.' She 
considers that this interpretation is sustained by Malvolio's answer, and also by 
Viola's subsequent soliloquy. [I prefer the deliberate assertion, and for the reasons 
set forth by Knight and Spedding. — Ed.] 

15. threw it to her] Thus far Malvolio has acquitted himself, as a messenger, 
tolerably well. But here he oversteps his knowledge. Olivia had said merely 
that the peevish messenger (a qualification which remains in Malvolio's memory) 
had left the ring behind him, — she uttered no word about throwing it. In thus 
filling out the details of an imaginary scene are we to find a forecast of that fantastic 
dreamer who could picture, even to a branched velvet gown, his married life with 
the Countess ? — Ed. 

17. in your eye] That is, in your sight. Compare, 'Into the eye and prospect 
of his soul,* Much Ado, IV, i, 238. W. A. Wright quotes Hamlet, IV, iv, 6 : 
' We shall express our duty in his eye.' 

19, etc. I left, etc.] Hanmer's changes, which are by way of improving Shake- 
speare, are too elaborate to be comfortably, or, perhaps, intelligently, indicated in 
the Text, Notes, First of all, he so transposes line 26, ' None of my Lord's ring ? 
Why he sent her none,' as to make it Viola's first words, printing 'None of my 
Lord's ring' in Italics, as a quotation. Next, he converts ' my outside have not 
charm' d her (line 20) into < my outside should have charm' d her.' Then in line 22, 
' her eyes had lost her tongue ' is changed into ' her eyes did let her tongue,' that is, 
hindered, tied her tongue. Finally, having removed line 26, as just stated, he puts 
a full stop after ' messenger,' in line 25. It is to be always borne in mind that these 
changes by Hanmer (for whose text I have much regard) and others like them by 
the early editors, were made solely in the interest of Shakespeare, as it was then sup- 
posed to be. See note on 1. 26. — Ed. 

20. haue not] See * were scarse out of him,' — I, v, 161. — W. A. Wright: 
'Not' is frequently found after verbs which contain in themselves a negative idea. 
Compare Pass, PH., 124: * Forbade the boy h». should not pass those grounds'; 
Much Ado, IV, i, 13 : * If either of you know any impediment why you should not 
be conjoined,' etc. Similarly, Com. of Err. lY, ii, 7 : * First, he denied you had in 
him no right.'] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 103 

She made good view of me, indeed fo much, 2 1 

That me thought her eyes had loft her tongue, 

For fhe did fpeake in ftarts diftraftedly. 

She loues me fure, the cunning of her pafsion 

Inuites me in this churlifh meffenger : 25 

None of my Lords Ring ? Why he fent her none ; 

I am the man, if it be fo, as tis, 27 

22. That'\ Knt, Coll. i, Hal. Dyce i, 27. matiy if it be fo^ as /w,] man, if 

Cam. Sta. That, as Dyce ii, iii, Coll. it be fo as tis, Ff. man — If it be so as 

iii, Huds. That fure Ff et cet. */jj, Rowe, Pope, man — If it be so, (as 

me thought'^ methought Rowe et *tis;) Theob. Warb. Johns. Var. '73, 

seq. methaught that K.\\y, '78. man,if it be so; as ^ tis, H&n, man! 

26. none;"] none P Ff. none. Rovre. If it be so, — as^t is, — Sta. man;. If it 

orj. I am the"] I should be Han. be so, {as *tis) Cap. et cet. (subs.) 

22. That] The defective metre in this line is supposed to have been supplied by 
sure of the Second Folio. Malone, however, was not altogether satisfied with it ; 
he remarks that * sure is not very likely to have been the word omitted in the First 
Folio, being found in the next line but one.* Nevertheless it satisfied Collier ; and 
R. G. White says that it * suits the place in every respect.' Walker ( Vers. 279) 
queried ' That, as me thought,* etc. ? and quoted Browne, Britannia^ s Pastorals, 
Bk. ii, song iv: *The wether's bell . . . Yields, as methinks, this day a deader 
sound.' This quotation converted Dyce, who, in his Second Edition, adopted 
Walker's conjecture. W. A. Wright thinks that sure is not a very happy emenda- 
tion. If it be the missing word, its repetition two lines further on amounts to but 
little, I think ; an objection on this score might lie against the second sure, but 
hardly against the' first. I am, however, certain that a good actress could so speak 
the line that the ear could detect no fault in the metre. — Ed. 

23. had lost] It is sufficient merely to record that Warburton pronounced this 
'nonsense,' and that the word was crost, that is, fascinated; whereto Heath 
replied that he had never heard that a ' person, or any part of him, had been fasci- 
nated by his own eyes.' — ^Johnson : We say a man loses his company when they go 
one way and he another. So, Olivia's tongue lost her eyes ; her tongue was talking 
of the Duke, and her eyes gazing on his messenger. — Knight : That is, caused her 
tongue to be lost — Halliwell : The plain meaning seems to be that her eyes 
were so occupied in looking at Viola, her talk was distracted. — W. A. Wright : 
ComfHure Lear, I, ii, 125 : 'It shall lose thee nothing.' 

26. None, etc.] The mention of the 'churlish messenger' recalls to her mind 
the scene with Malvolio ; we can now see how great the dislocation which this line 
suffered at the hands of Hanmer. — Ed. 

27. I am the man] Saturday Review (12 July, 1884) : One fault only we have 
thus far to find with Miss Ellen Terry's rendering of the whole part. . . . Miss 
Terry gives the words, * I am the man ' with an air of pretty and intense amuse- 
ment, and follows them by a charming and laughing assumption of a mannish walk. 
That this is the right interpretation we cannot believe. Viola, light-hearted and 
brave as she was in the midst of trouble, was not the person to be unfeeling towards 
the trouble of another woman. Amusement she may very naturally have felt at the 
mistake ; but it would not have been unmixed. There would have been some touch 

I04 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. u. 

Poore Lady, (he were better loue a dreame: 28 

Difguife, I fee thou art a wickedneffe, 

Wherein the pregnant enemie does much. 30 

How eafie is it, for the proper falfe 

In womens waxen hearts to fet their formes : 

Alas, O frailtie is the caufe, not wee, 

For fuch as we are made, if fuch we bee : 34 

31. proper false] proper-false M. 34. we are maeUy if fuch] F{, Rowe 
Mason, Mai. et seq. (except Coll.) ii, + , Var. Knt, Coll. i, ii. itfe are, we 

32. formes .*] forms I Rowe. are made, if such Rowe i. we are made^ 

33. O] our Yi et seq. ei^n such Han. Cap. KUy, Coll. iii. we 
not wee,] Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. Del. are made of, such Tyrwhitt, Ran. ct cet^ 

not we ; or not we ! Cap. et cet. 

of pity and of interest, and of this Miss Terry gave no hint. But this is the one 
important blemish on a performance which came near being ideal, and may no doubt 
come nearer when the nervousness inseparable from attacking so difficult a part has 
disappeared. — Ibid. (19 July, 18S4) : Miss Terry still delivers these words with a 
most captivating laugh and assumption for a moment of a mannish walk. But she 
now gives to the subsequent words, 'poor lady, she were better love a dream,' 
precisely the touch of pathos which on the first night we missed. 

28. she were better] See, for the construction, * you were best,' I, v, 30. 

30. pregnant enemie] Johnson : This is, I believe, the dexterous fiend, or enemy 
of mankind. — W. A. Wright : That is quick-witted, alert, ready. [See III, i, 90.] 

31. proper false] Johnson : This is obscure. The meaning is, *how easy is 
disguise to women !' how easily does their own falsehood, contained in their wcucen^ 
changeable hearts, enable them to assume deceitful appearances! The two next 
lines are perhaps transposed, and should be read [in the order, 34, 33]. — ^Tyrwhitt 
(p. 44) : The sense, I think, is clearly this : * How easy is ii for the proper false 
[handsome counterfeits, beautiful outsides] to set their forms [to impress themselvesj 
in women^s waxen hearts P It cannot be necessary to prove by quotations that 
'proper* signifies handsome; and * false* alludes to Viola's own case. — Steevens : 
The < proper-false ' is certainly a less elegrant expression than the fair deceiver, but 
it seems to mean the same thing. — M. Mason : Viola's reflection, 'how easy it is for 
those who are handsome and deceitful to make an impression on the waxen hearts 
of women,* is a natural sentiment for a girl to utter who was herself in love. An 
expression similar to * proper- false * occurs in III, iv, 370, where we find * beauteous- 
evil.* [M. Mason was the earliest to note that these words should be joined by a 
hyphen.] — Malone : So, in A*, of L. 1240: * For men have marble, women waxen, 
minds. And therefore are they form'd as marble will : The weak oppress* d, the 
impression of strange kinds Is form*d in them by force, by fraud, or skill.* — 
Wellesley (p. 3) : The difficulty of affixing a satisfactory sense to that strange 
compound * the proper-false ' inclines me to believe it an invention of the compositor, 
the word which baffled him being impresses ; and I would propose to read : * How 
easy is it for impresses false,' etc., i. e. women are easily impressible. [The inter- 
pretation of either T3rrwhitt or Monck Mason suffices. ] 

33. O] A manifest misprint, corrected in the Second Folio. 

34. such as ... we bee] Tyrwhitt (p. 45) : I incline to read thus, < such as 

ACT II. sc. ii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 105 

How will this fadge? My mafter loues her deerely, 35 

And I (poore monfter) fond afmuch on him : 

35* f^g^^ f^g F^' 36. a/mu£h'\ as much F^. 

36. monfter] minister Han. 

we are made of, such we be.' — Malone : Of and if are frequently confounded in 
the old copies. Thus, in King John^ II, i, 367, the Second Folio has * Lord of our 
presence, Angiers, and if you [instead of: of you]. Again, Mer. of Ven, III, ii, 
18: ' Mine own, I would say, but, ^mine, then yours ' in the Quartos is misprinted 
*^mine' in the First Folio. In As You Like It, II, vii, 81, we have a construc- 
tion nearly like the present: 'When such a one as she, such is her neighbor.' — 
Knight : If Viola meant to say — we be such as we are made — the particle of is 
soiplusage. But we think she does not mean this. She would say < our frailty is 
the cause, not we ourselves, that the proper-false deceive us ; because such as we are 
madeinJX (/" we be frail.' The poet did not mean the reasoning to be very con- 
clusive. [I think Knight's meaning would be more clearly expressed if a comma 
were placed before and after * as we ' : — ' because such, as we, are made frail,' etc. 
— Ed.] — Collier (ed. ii) : [T3rrwhitt*s emendation] seems a decided error, for all 
that Viola means to say is, that if women are indeed what they are represented to 
be, the frailty of the sex is the cause of it — Abbott (§ 299, p. 212) adopts Tyr- 
whitt's of but retains the original punctuation ; this, combined with his comment 
thereon, I do not quite understand. He reads and punctuates the two lines as fol- 
lows : * Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we. For such as we are made, of such we 
be.' He then observes, *it can scarcely be asserted that **For" \s for that or 
because.* Note that by placing a comma before and after 'not we' he connects 
'cause,' in construction directly with 'For such,' etc., and yet will not allow us 
to interpret ' For ' as for that. He adds : ' It is more probable that the scene 
originally ended there, and that Shakespeare used ' be ' in order to get the rhyme, 
which so often tenninates a scene.' It is proper to explain that Abbott is discussing 
the nse of be in dependent clauses. I think that the correct punctuation after ' wee ' 
is that adopted by every editor, except Collier and Delius, since Capell's time. The 
meaning of the two lines, with Tyrwhitt's good emendation, seems plain. — Ed. 

35. fadge] BoswELL : ^Andar* a vanga, to fadge, to prosper with, to go as one 
would haue it.'— Florio, A Worlde of fVordes, 1598.— Bradley (A^. £. D,) : Ety- 
mology unknown ; first found late in 1 6th century. The various uses of the word are 
substantially identical with those of the older Fay, verb, (extant representative of 
Old English ffgan), of which, however, it can neither be a variant nor a derivative 
by any known process. Possibly it may have been a new type formed unconsciously 
on the suggestion of fay and some word ending in -d^e. The close correspondence 
of the senses with those of Cotton, verb, is remarkable. [4. intransitive] To fit 
in with or suit the surroundings ; hence to get on, succeed, thrive. Of an event : 
To come off. Often with an indefinite subject, //, that, this, matters, things, etc. 

36. monster] Delius : This refers to her present androgynous state, neither man 
nor woman ; just as she aftenn-ard says, * As I am man,' and • as I am woman.' 

36. fond] Bradley (M E, /?.), under the second division of 'fond' as a verb, 
constructed with on, over, upon, gives, as its meaning of ' doting upon,' etc., the 
following examples: 1530 Palsgrave, 5S3 : *I fonde, or dote upon a thyng for 
inordynate love.' 1567 Turberville, Ovid's Epistles, 154: 'Whilst thou. . . 



[act II. sc. ii. 

And fhe (miftaken) feemes to dote on me : 

What will become of this ? As I am man, 

My ftate is defperate for my maifters loue : 

As I am woman (now alas the day) 

What thriftleffe fighes fhall poore Oliuia breath ? 

O time, thou muft vntangle this, not I, 

It is too hard a knot for me t^vnty. 




38. man^ a man F F^, Rowe. 

39. fnaijlers\ majlers F^. 

40. 'woman\ a woman Rowe i. 

41. breaih'l F3. Cap. breathe F,F^. 
43. fvnty\ Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. Wh. i, 
Sta. Dyce. to unty Cap. et cet. 

did fonde on Phyllis.' 1590 Fenne, Frutes^ i» 53 = * Immoderately fonding over 
wife, Sonne, daughter.' And, lastly, the present instance. 

37. And she] Dyce (ed. i) : To this, as far as I am aware, no editor has 
objected ; but I question if we ought not to read, — ^As she,' etc. [In his ed. ii, 
Dyce adopted this conjecture (and was followed by Hudson) because *And ' was, 
*no doubt, repeated from the line above.'] 

38. of this] For other examples where ' of means in consequence of, see Abbott, 
§ 168, p. III. 

43. t'vnty] Albeit that we have this contraction veritably printed before us in the 
Folio, and albeit that Abbott (§ 462) gives these words as an example of contrac- 
tion in pronunciation, I nevertheless hope and trust that tun/ie is due to the com- 
positor or to his reader, and that such a contraction was never adopted by Shake- 
speare, or by any one else, — aloud. 

From all that I can read or learn, the impersonators of Viola appear to have given 
to this soliloquy an air of mirth at the discovery that Olivia had fallen in love with 
the page, — ^an Interpretation which I cannot but regard as far astray, not only from 
Viola's character in general, but from her present circumstances.* At the very first 
mention of Olivia, in the second scene of the play, Viola's heart had gone out in 
sympathy to one whose profound grief over the loss of a brother was so identical with 
her own ; and now when she discovers that Olivia is destined to cherish a hopeless 
passion, similar to her own, their twinship in despair ag^ain most deeply touches her 
heart, and the whole soliloquy is pervaded with a gentle sadness. This inter- 
pretation is also Spedding's, who, in his criticism of Miss Kate Terry's acting of 
Viola, remarks as follows : * The messenger being gone, Viola proceeds to consider 
what the meaning of it is. And it is in the soliloquy which follows (though deliv- 
ered with admirable spirit and skill) that Miss Terry seemed to us to commit her 
gravest fault. Following again the traditions of the stage, — where " I am the man " 
is commonly made the "point" of the speech, — and forgetting how sad Viola's 
heart was, and how forlorn her prospects, — she represented her as taking a light 
pleasure, as of gratified vanity, in Olivia's mistake, and as rather enjoying the per- 
plexity of the situation ; for she made her exit with a laugh, musical enough in 
itself, but terribly out of tune with the sentiment of the play. According to Shake- 
speare, Viola's sense of the humour of the si/'iation is immediately lost in sympathy 
and sad reflection, accompanied with a kind of self-reproach [see lines 27, etc.]. 
And most certainly it ic with a sigh and not with a laugh, that she gives up the 
attempt to see how it can all end.* — Fraser's Maga. 1865, Aug., p. 265. — Ed. 

ACT II, sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 107 

Sc(Bna Tertia. 

Enter Sir Tobyy and Sir Andrew. , 2 

To. Approach Sir Andrew : not to bee a bedde after 
midnight, is to be vp betimes, and Deliculo furgere^ thou 
know'ft. 5 

And. Nay by my troth I know not : but I know, to 
be vp late, is to be vp late. 

To. A falfe conclufion : I hate it as an vnfill'd Canne. 
To be vp after midnight, and to go to bed then is early: 
fo that to go to bed after midnight, is to goe to bed be- 10 

times. Does not our Hues confift of the foure Ele- 

Afid. Faith fo they fay, but I thinke it rather confifts 
of eating and drinking. 

To. Th'art a fcholler ; let vs therefore eate and drinke. 1 5 

Marian I fay, a ftoope of wine. 

I. Act III. Scene i. Spedding. Knt, Coll. Hal. Dyce i. Does not our 

Olivia's House. Rowe. /i/e Rowe ii et cet 

Z. a bfdde] a bed ¥i, a-ded Rowe. 15. 7)4* ar/] Ff, Rowe, + . Thou^rt 

4. Deliculo] Diliculo Ff. DUuculo Cap. Wh. Dyce, Cam. Sta. Rife, Huds. 
Rowe et seq. (subs.) Thou art Var. '78 et cet. 

5. kucwft^ krurufstf — Theob. et 16. Marian] Maria Pope, + , Cap. 
seq. Dyce ii, iii. Coll. iii, Huds. 

II. Does not our Hues'} Ff, Rowe i, /V^t^ ^^y ^ Theob. 

Ktly. Do not our lives Mai. Steev. Var. ftoope} ftoop F^. stoup Cam. 

4. Deliculo surgere] Malone : DUuculo surgere saluberrimum est. This adage 
our author found in Lilly's Grammar, p. 51. [' To get up at dawn is most healthy.'] 

II. our liues] R. G. White (ed. i) : That ' Hues ' is an error forJi/e is shown 
not only by the demonstrative * it' in Sir Andrew's reply, but by the consideration 
that the four elements were supposed to constitute life, not individual lives. 

II, 12. the foure Elements] Malone: Thus, in J/en. V: III, vii, 22 : 'he is 
pure air and fire ; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him.' 
Again, in Ant, &• Cleop, V, ii, 292 : < I am fire and air ; my other elements I give 
to baser life.' ['So mans bodie is made of foure Elements, that is to wit, of Elarth, 
Water, Fire & Aire.' — Batman vppon Bartholome, Lib. iv, cap. i, p. 24. — Ed.] 

16. Marian] Walker ( Crit, i, 232) has an Article on the * Double Forms of 
some Proper Names ' ; in it he quotes this passage with the remark, * Marian occurs 
nowhere else in Twelfth Night, Can it ever have been synon3rmous with Maria 
and Mary?"* 

16. stoope] W. A. Wright : A stoup is a drinking cup, and the word is still 
used in our college halls and butteries. See Hamlet, V, i, 68 : * Fetch me a stoup 
of liquor.' It was a vessel of varying capacity. 

I08 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. iu. 

Enter Clowne. ly 

And. Heere comes the foole yfaith. 

Clo. How now my harts : Did you neuer fee the Pic- 
ture of we three ? 20 

To, Welcome affe, now let^s haue a catch. 

And. By my troth the foole has an excellent breaft. I 
had rather then forty (hillings I had fuch a legge, and fo 23 

17. Enter Clowne.] After line 18, 20. wt three\ As a quotation, Hal. 

Dyce. Cam. Coll. iii. 

20. we three] Henley : An allusion to an old print, sometimes pasted on the 
wall of a country ale-house, representing two^ but under which the spectator reads, 
— • We three are asses. ' — Malone believes the print or sign represented two wooden 
heads, with the inscription under them : * We three loggerheads be.' * The Clown 
means to insinuate that Sir Toby and Sir Andrew had as good a title to the name 
oi fool as himself.' — Douce : The original picture seems to have been i^o fools. 
Thus in Shirley's The Bird in a Cage, Morello, who counterfeits a fool^ says : * we 
be three of old, without exception to your lordship, only with this difference, I am 
the wisest fool.' [IV, i, Douce errs in saying Morello 'counterfeits a y^/,* — 
Morello was 'disguised like a lady.'] Sometimes, as Henley has stated, it was two 
asses. Thus, in Beaumont & Fletcher's Queen of Corinth, IH, i : * Neanthes, He 
is another ass, he says ; I believe him. Uncle, We be three, heroical prince — 
Neanthes. Nay then, we must have the picture of 'em, and the word [motto] Nos 
sumusJ* [p. 438, ed. Dyce.] — Halliwell : The sign is still preserved in England, 
where a few taverns still exist, the sign consisting of two grotesque or idiotic heads, 
and the inscription being: * We three loggerheads be.' < Plaine home-spun stuffe 
shall now proceed from me, Much like unto the Picture of Wee Three.' — Taylor's 
Farewell to the Tower- Bottles, 1622. The marginal note to this is, — * The picture 
of two fooles, and the third looking on, I doe fitly compare with the two black 
bottles and myselfe.' [The Clown referred to the picture of three fools, and Sir 
Toby retaliated by referring to the picture of three asses. — Ed.] 

21. catch] Murray (A^. E. D.) quotes Grove : *The catch was for each suc- 
ceeding singer to take up or catch his part in time.' [See line 66, below.] 

22. breast] In Nichols's Lit. Hist, (ii, 631) there is a number of conjectural 
emendations of Shakespeare's text, which were sent to Theobald's printer by an 
anonymous correspondent, signing himself *L. H.'; some of these conjectures are 
more than usually ingenious ; among those, however, which are less happy, is that 
of breath for 'breast,' in the present passage. — Murray (A^. E. D.) gives, in addi- 
tion to the present passage, the following examples of • breast ' in the sense of 
breath, voice in singing: 1547 J. Hey wood Four P^s: *I have some syght in 
syngynge. But is your brest any thynge sweet?' ante 1553 Udall Roister Dois- 
ter, p. 14, ed. Arber : * So loe, that is a breast to blow out a candle.' 162 1 
Fletcher's Tlie Pilgrim, III, vi. (N.) : < Let's hear him sing, he has a fine breast.' 
171 1 Strype Parker 9 (N. ): * Queristers, after their breasts are changed.' — 
Halliwell gives a folio page of similar examples. — Staunton says, the phrase is 
so common in our old writers, that it would be superfluous to cite examples of its 
use in this sense. 

23. such a legge] Precisely what this means, it is difficult to say. A Meg ' is a 

ACT II. sc. uL] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 109 

fweet a breath to fmg, as the foole has. Infooth thou waft 

in very gracious fooling laft night, when thou fpok'ft of 25 

24. Infoothl In sooth Theob. ii. et 25. fpol^Jt\ spokeit Mai. Knt, Dyce, 
seq. Cam. 

common term for a bow, or an obeisance ; thus in How a Man may choose a Gooa 
Wife from a Bad, * do not come With foolish sonnets to present her with, With 
legs, with curtsies, congees, and such like.* — p. 18, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley. Feste 
may have entered with a graceful bow to all the company, — he could do nothing 
awkwardly, — and to this Sir Andrew may have referred. Or, Feste may have had 
aristocratic small legs, 'a fashionable characteristic of a fine gentleman,' says 
Gifibrd, in a note on Chloe's remark in Jonson's Poetaster, that <a man borne 
upon little legs is always a gentleman bom.' II, i, p. 417. To this feature, ' there 
are,' adds Gifford, ' innumerable allusions in our old writers,' and he proceeds to 
give several. I prefer the picture of the conciliatory sweep of Feste' s graceful arms 
(which Sir Andrew finds so enviable) to that of any legs however fashionably thin 
and small. Schmidt gives many examples of ' leg ' meaning a bow. — Ed. 

25. gracious fooling] Staunton : All clowns were capable, more or less, 
of the biting sarcasms and coarse practical merriment which their vocation 
licensed ; but few, probably, had sufficient information, not to say learning, to 
garnish their discourse with the mock erudition and the snatches of axiomatical 
philosophy exhibited by the jesters of Twelfth Night and As You Like It ; and 
from them any reasoning admitting a sensible interpretation must not, of course, be 
looked for ; though something may be traced in them which bears a close affinity ^ 
to the fantastic extravagrance and wild conceits of Rabelais. The source, however, 

of their sham sententiousness is of an earlier date than the romance of the great 
French satirist The first known edition of that work is dated 1532 ; but in the 
library of M. de Bure were found two more ancient though undated books, entitled 
Les Chroni^ues de Gargantua, which have much of this peculiar humour. The his- 
toiy of Gargantua, as an enormous giant, was well known too in England during 
the sixteenth century, though the romance relating to him contains nothing of the 
amusing rhodomontade indulged in by Rabelais and the humourists in question. A 
remote resemblance to it may be detected in some parts of the poems of William 
Langland, 7^ Vision and Creed of Piers the Plowman ; and there is extant a genu- 
ine specimen of the *• gracious fooling ' for which the Clowns of Shakespeare stand 
unrivalled, in the form of a mock sermon, in a manuscript of the fifteenth century, 
preserved in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh, which, with other burlesques of 
the same date, was printed in 1841 by Mr T. Wright, in the Reliquia Antigua, i, 
82. One extract from this effusion, with the orthography partly modernised, will 
convey no very imperfect notion of the Clown's 'gracious fooling' with Sir Toby 
and his companion knight : — ' Why hopest thou not, for sooth, that there stood once 
a cook on St Paul steeple top, and drew up the strapuls of his breech ? How 
piovest thou that ? By all the four doctors of Wynebere hylles ; that is to say, 
Vertas, Gadatryme, Trumpas, and Dadyl Trimsert ; the which four doctors say, that 
there was once an old wife had a cook to her son ; and he looked out of an old 
dove-cote, and warned and charg'd that no man should be so hardy neither to ride 
nor to go on St. Paul steeple top but if he rode on a three-footed stool, or else that 
he brought with him a warrant of his neck, and yet the lewd letherand lurdon went 
forth, and met seven acres of land betwixt Dover and Quicksand, and he brought 

no TWELFE NIGHT [act n. sc. ui. 

JKgrogrontituSy of the Uapians pafsing the Equino6lial of 26 

Queubtis: 'twas very good yfaith: I fent thee fixe pence 

for thy Lemon, hadfl it ? 28 

26. Pigrogromitus] PigrogomitusVQX. sixpence Var. '03. 

'21 (misprint?) 28. Lem(m'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Johns. 

36, 27. E^uinoc^/ o/Queuhus] equi- Coll. i. leman Theob. Han. Warb. 

noctial ; of Queubus ; Tiessen. Cap. et seq. 

27f 34- fixe pence'\ six-pence Theob. 

an acre in his recke [hand-basket] from the Tower of London unto the Tower of 
Babilon ; and, as he went by the way, he had a foul fall, and he fell down at the 
Castle of Dover into a gruel-pot, and brake both his shins. Thereof came tripping 
to the king of Hongre, that all people which might not lightly come to the Plain 
of Salisbury, but the fox and the grey convent, should pray for all the old shoe-soules 
that ben roasted in the king's dish on Saturday.' 

26, 27. Pigrogromitus . . . Queubus] Leigh Hunt ( Wit and Humour^ p. 86) : 
Not that Shakespeare was habitually melancholy. He had too healthy a brain for 
that, and too great animal spirits ; but in running the whole circle of thought, he 
must of necessity have gone through its darkest as well as brightest phases ; and 
the sunshine was welcome in proportion. Shakespeare is the inventor of the phrase, 
' setting the table in a roar ' ; of the memory of Yorick ; of the stomach of Falstaff, 
stuffed as full of wit as of sack. He ' wakes the night-owl with a catch ' ; draws 
' three souls out of one weaver'; passes the * equinoctial of Queubus * (some glori- 
ous torrid zone, lying beyond three o'clock in the morning). — Brewer {^Reader's 
Handbook) : ' The Equinoctial of Queubus,' a line in the < unknown sea,' passed 
by the Vapians on the Greek kalends of the Olympiad era b. c. 777, according to 
the authority of Quinapalus. [However setded the conviction that these are mere 
nonsense names invented by the Clown on the spur of a convivial moment, it is vain 
to deny that a curiosity, almost invincible, possesses us all to know something more 
of these Vapians, whose passing of the Equinoctial of Queubus was so infinitely 
droll that the humour thereof permeated even the thin and watery wits of Sir 
Andrew. Almost instinctively, we all turn to Rabelais ; I am sure that I have 
merely followed many editorial predecessors in reading his volumes from the first 
line to the last on a keen but futile scent for the p>ossible originals of these fictions 
of the Clown. Wheresoever we may search, of one fact, however, we may rest 
assured, and this is, that these names are not precisely those which the Clown used. 
Sir Andrew would not be Sir Andrew, if he repeated them correctly. They must 
be ludicrous distortions; possibly ^ readily recognised as such by Shakespeare's 
audience, to whom the true names may have been familiar enough in some jest of 
the day. Furthermore, the reference to * passing the Ek]uinoctial * should show 
us, I think, that it is not exclusively to Rabelais that we should look for light, but 
also to Astrology and to conjuring. And this leads to the only feeble litde ray 
that here dawns on me. At the risk of being deemed a copesmate of Sir Andrew, 
I am willing to confess that in the distorted * Pigrogromitus ' I think we may possi- 
bly find Sir Andrew's version of the Tetragrammaton. — Ed.] 

28. Lemon] Theobald: The Clown was neither pantler nor butler. The poet's 
word was certainly mistaken by the ignorance of the printer. I have restored 
leman, i. e. I sent thee sixpence to spend on thy mistress. — Steevkns : We still 
have * Leman-sXxteV in Goodman's fields. — Halliwell : The spelling * lemon' is 

ACT II. sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL \ \ \ 

Clo. I did impeticos thy gratilHty : for Maluolios nofe 29 

is no Whip-ftocke My Lady has a white hand, and the 
Mermidons are no bottle-ale houfes. 31 

29. impeticos thy gr€UillUy\impeticoat 31. Mermidons^ Afirmidons Rowe, 

thy gratiiiiy Var. *73. impeticocU thy Pope. Myrmidons Theob. etseq. 
gratuity Johns, conj. Var. '78, Ran. bottlt-ale hou/es"] bottle ale houfes 

Var. '85. impeticos thy gratulity Kin- F^. Bottle- Ale- houfes F^, Rowe i, Cap. 

a Tery common form of the word. [Halliwell devotes two folio pages to quotations, 
many of them quibbles on leman and lemony which are neither witty nor pretty. 
Cotgrave gives: Amie : f. A loue, a lemman, a she- friend, a sweet-heart. — Ed.] 
— ^W. A. Wright : In Middle English the word appears in the forms leofmon, 
tefmon, and lefmany of which lemman or leman is the abbreviation. It is used of 
either sex. See Merry fVives, IV, ii, 172 : * As jealous as Ford, that searched a 
hollow tree for his wife's leman.' 

28. badst it ?] The common omission of the nominative in familiar questions, 
like the present, or like 'Art any more then a Steward,' line 112, or like Hamlet's 
'Didst perceive?' Ill, ii, 275; or Lear's 'Wilt break my heart?' Ill, iv, 4; or 
Touchstone's 'Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd?' Ill, ii, 22; is not pre- 
cisely similar to such phrases as ' Has been told so,' I, v, 147, or ' then cam'st in 
smiling,' V. i, 368 (if this last be the true reading). 

29. impeticos thy gratillity] Hanmer : He means to say, impocket thy gratuity, 
— ^Johnson : Hanmer is undoubtedly right ; but we must read, — ' I did impeticoat 
ihy gratuity J [Thus, too, Collier's MS.] The fools were kept in long coats, to 
which the allusion is made. There is yet much in this dialogue which I do not 
understand. — Ritson : It is a very gross mistake to imagine that this character was 
habited like an idiot. Neither he nor Touchstone, though they wear a particoloured 
dress, has either coxcomb or baubUy nor is he by any means to be confounded with the 
Fool in King Lear, nor even, I think, with the one in AWs Well, [See note on I, 
▼, 2.] — B. Nicholson (A'l <Sr* Qu. 3rd, V, 229) : I would read impiticos or 
impiticose. In Florio's Queen Anna's New World of Wordsy we find the following : 
— ' Pitocarcy to beg up and down for broken pieces of meat or scraps. Also to 
dodge and patter. PitoccOy an old crafty beggar, a micher, a patchtcoat beggar, a 
dodger, a patterer, a wrangler. [Nicholson goes on to assert that begging is a dis- 
tinctive characteristic of the Clown, and that seeing how much money Sir Toby 
extracted from Sir Andrew, the Clown had endeavoured to do the like, but had 
received for his pains only a paltry sixpence.] With a covert sneer, therefore, he 
coins a diminutive to express the smallness of the gift, and acknowledges the 
gratillityy and in the same vein coins impiticoscy {s being the usual causative, and 
im the usual intensive augment) ; and says, I did make a great ' begging up and 
down,' and after much ado and importunity, I received 'a scrap' of your bounty, a 
crumb from Dives — I did impiticose thy gratillity. [This is ingenious, but not con- 
vincing. — Ed.] 

29-31. Maluolios nose . . . bottle-ale houses] Steevens : The Clown says 
he did impeticoat the gratuity, 1. e, he gave it to his petticoat companion ; for (says 
he) 'Malvolio's nose is no whip-stock,' 1. e. Malvolio may smell out our connection, 
but his suspicion will not prove the instrument of our punishment. ' My mistress 
has a white hand, and the myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses,' t. e. my mistress 

1 1 2 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. ui. 

An. Excellent : Why this is the beft fooling, when 32 

all is done. Now a fong. 

To. Come on, there is fixe pence for you. Let's haue 
a fong. 35 

An. There's a teftrill of me too : if one knight giue a 

33- /^»,^] song— Var. '73. 36. giue a\ give a- F,. give a- - F^. 

give a — F . 

is handsome, but the houses kept by officers of justice are no places to make meny 
and entertain her at. Such may be the meaning of this whimsical speech. — HUT- 
SON (p. 484) : This reply of the Clown is apparently a whimsical series of incon- 
secutive ideas ; but, examined closely, it will be found not to lack continuity : — ' I 
pocketed thy trifling gratuity [for he seems to me to mean a hidden sneer by his 
diminutive], because Malvolio would soon nose me out if I abstracted wine from 
the steward's stores; my lady [not Olivia, but the girl Sir Andrew sent him the 
sixpence for] has too white a hand to condescend to common tipple, and the tavern 
called The Myrmidons, where I would regale her, is no place for cheap drink.' 

30. Whip-stocke] Steevens says he < believes ' that this is ' the handle of a 
whip ' and quotes two or three examples from old dramas. As Rolfe remarks, it 
has survived in this sense, in this country, and is still in common use. — Ed. 

31. bottle-ale] Weiss (p. 200) : This phrase occurs once more in 2 Hen. IV : II, 
iv, 140, to express contempt, — * Away, you bottle-ale rascal !' Was the bottling of 
ale just coming in, to the immense disgust of the loyal Briton, who thought nobly 
of the ancient brew and would not have it save, mightily, on tap ? 

36. testriU] W. A. Wright : A sixpence ; like * tester,' which occurs in 2 Hen. 
IV: III, ii, 296, a corruption of * teston,* which was borrowed from the French. It 
may be that ' testril ' is a diminutive of ' tester.' Cotgrave defines ' Teston : m. . . . 
a Testoone ; a piece of siluer coyne worth xviij d. sterling.' It was struck by Louis 
XII. and so called because it had a head {teste) stamped upon it. See Ending's 
Annals of the Coinage, ii, 86. In England testoons were first struck by Henry 
VIII. in 1543, going for twelve pence a piece, the pound of silver being ten ozs. fine 
and two ozs. alloy. In the reign of Edward VI. the coinage was so far debased that 
a testoon was only current for sixpence, and in 1560 the better sort were marked 
with a portcullis and passed for 4^^., while the inferior were marked with a grey- 
hound, and passed for 2%d, See Stow's Annals (ed. 1580), p. 11 15. 

36. of me] Compare ' She tooke the Ring of me,' II, ii, 14, or see Abbott, 
§ 165, p. no. 

36. knight giue a] Collier's MS Corrector supplies a line, which the hyphen 
(in the Second Folio) seems to indicate had been carelessly omitted, as follows: 
* if one knight give a-way sixpence, so will I give another: go to, a song.* In his 
Second Edition, Collier remarks, * The new words are in themselves of comparatively 
little value, but they are a recovery of what, in all human probability, must have 
come from Shakespeare's pen, and therefore ought to be studiously preserved.' — 
Singer (Shakespeare Vindicated, etc., p. 65) : The Corrector's addition is an 
improbable one which I cannot hail as welcome [Collier, in his Notes and Emenda- 
tions, had termed the line a * welcome addition.' — Ed.] ; and what would fully answer 
all the purposes of filling up the hiatus, should it be thought necessary, would be to 
complete the sentence thus : ' if one knight give K-nother should.* This avoids 

ACT II, sc. iii.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 113 

Clo. Would you haue a loue-fong, or a fong of good 37 


To. A loue fong, a loue fong. 

An, I, I. I care not for good life. 40 

Clowne fings. 
O Mi/Iris mine where are you roming ? 42 

40. /, /,] Ay^ ay, Rowe. 42. mine] mine, F^F^. 

supplying too many words to the poet. — Dyce (ed. i) : Mr Collier ought to have 
said, < an addition welcome to those who will have the speech filled up.' — Edin- 
burgh Review {Collier and Sitter ^ April, 1856, p. 372) : We need scarcely inti- 
mate the trouble which the mutilated text has given the critics [This is somewhat of 
an exaggeration ; every critic and editor from Rowe to Collier accepted the line, 
without comment, as an interrupted one. — Ed.] ; or how far every one of them, we 
believe, has been from guessing that a line had dropt through. And yet, how self- 
evident the change appears when suggested ; and what incredible boldness of con- 
ception, as well as neatness of execution, such an alteration on conjecture would 
evidence. Were we inclined to rest the Corrector's reputation for authority on any 
single passage, there is none we would sooner fix on. Mr Singer's objection, as he 
must needs object, simply is, that the Corrector being a guesser, ought not to have 
guessed so boldly, — which is only one instance in a hundred of his practice of 
taking the point in issue for granted, — and he proceeds to insinuate a most innocent 
conjecture of his own ; which he is not ashamed again to propose in his new edition 
of the plays, without even noticing the Corrector's line at all ! — Bowen (p. 495) : 
He who was capable of inventing [the MS Corrector's addition], so perfectly in 
keeping with Sir Andrew's character and manner, might have written without effort 
the whole comic portion of The Twelfth Night. [Can it be possible that Professor 
Bowen meant this seriously? — Ed.] In mercy to Mr Singer, we forbear to quote his 
comment, and the way in which he proposes to fill up the gap. [I much prefer to 
believe that Feste interrupts Sir Andrew's twaddle. — Ed.] 

37> 3^- good life] Steevens : I do not suppose that by a song of * good life,* 
the Qown means a song of a moral turn ; though Sir Andrew answers to it in that 
signification. *Good life,' I believe, is 'harmless mirth and jollity.' — Malone : In 
The Merry tVives, III, iii, 127, these words are used for a virtuous character : 
* Defend your reputation, or farewell to your good life for ever.' [The general 
opinion seems to hold, with Sir Andrew, that this means a sententious song or a 
song of virtuous conduct with a moral in it. But I incline to think that the Clown 
knew his company too well to propose any such entertainment at this hour of the 
night, and that Steevens more justly interprets it as of < harmless mirth and jollity ' — 
possibly, omitting the 'harmless.' — Ed.] 

42, etc. O Mistris, etc.] Chappell (i, 209) notes that this is contained in both 
editions of Morley's Consort Lessons^ 1599 and 1611. *It is also found in Queen 
Elizabeth's Virginal Book [1603], arranged by Byrd. As it is to be found in print 
in 1599, it proves either that Twelfth Night was written in or before that year, or 
that, in accordance with the then prevailing custom, **0 Mistress mine " was an old 
song, introduced into the play.' — Dyce (ed. ii) : The latter supposition is doubtless 
the true one. — Capell (p. 145) : This song should be a new composition, and not 
borrow' d as are the scraps that come after it ; but excepting that it breaths better 

1 14 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. iu. 

O flay and hearCj your true loues coming y 43 

That can feng both high and low. 

Trip no further prettie fweetifig : 45 

Journeys end in louers meetings 

Euety wife mans fonne doth know. 
An. Excellent good, ifaith. 
To. Good, good. 
Clo. What is loue^ tis not heereafterj 50 

Prefent mirth ^ hath prefent laughter: 

What's to come J isflill vnfure. 

In delay there lies no plenticy 

Then come kijfe me/weet and twentie : 54 

43. and heare,] for here Coll. MS. 50. loue,] lave? Pope et seq. 

true loues] true Love's Rowe. 53. In delay] Indelay F^. In decay 

true-lov^s Cap. Dyce, Sta. Huds. Warb. 

46. louers] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. 54. fweet and twentie] sweety and 
1, Han. Cam. Rife, Dtn, Wh. ii. lover^ twenty Theob. + , Cap. Var. '73. sioeet- 
Theob. ii et cet. and-twenty Var. * 03, '13, '21, Hal. 

47. wife mans] wise tnan^s Rowe. Dyce, Sta. Kily, Huds. Wh. ii. 

sense than those old ballads, it has all the cast of them. [See Preface to the present 
play. For the music, see Appendix^ p. 323. — Ed.] 

54. sweet and twentie] Capell (p. 145) : What we are to conceive by it is 
this, — then give me a kiss, sweet, give me twenty kisses. — Johnson : This line is 
obscure ; we might read : * Come, a kiss then, sweet and twenty.' Yet I know not 
whether the present reading be not right, for in some counties * sweet and twenty,' 
whatever be the meaning, is a phrase of endearment. — Steevens : So in Wit of a 
Woman f 1604 : * Sweet and twenty; all sweet and sweet.* Again in The Life 
and Death of The Merry Devil of Edmonton^ by T. B., 1 63 1 : * — his little wanton 
wagtailes, his sweet and twenties, his pretty pinckineyd pigsnies, etc., as he himself 
was wont to call them.' — Nares (j. v. * sweet and twenty* ) : Without a change of 
the reading, it cannot be otherwise explained than as a term of endearment. If we 
read as suggested by Johnson, or, * Then a kiss, my sweet, and twenty * all would 
be easy. — M alone : Compare Merry Wives, II, i, 203 : * Good even and twenty, 
master Page.* — Staunton : A proverbial endearment ; thus in The Merry Devil 
of Edmonton [Staunton then gives the same quotation as Steevens, above].— 
Halliwell : That is, twenty times sweet. There is no necessity for alteration. It 
may be worth observation that twain-ty occurs in the Devonshire dialect as a term of 
endearment to little children, possibly in the sense of, double sweet. — Walker 
( Crit, iii, 84) : Does the Clown mean, * Then come kiss me, sweet, and twenty,* 
subaudi^ kisses? Compare Merry Wives [as above]. Beaumont and Fletcher, 
Wit at Several Weapons , III, i, ^ Sir Gregory, Good morrow, mistress! Niece, 
An ill day and a thousand, come upon thee ! Sir Gregory. 'Light, that's six hun- 
dred more than any almanack has. '[p. 45, ed. Dyce.] Reversing the common form; 
a little below, * Good morrow, niece. Niece. Many fair ones to you, sir.* Peele, 
Old Wife's Tale, * Neighbour, farewell. Lampriscus. Farewell, and a thousand.' 

ACT II, sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 1 15 

[54. sweet and twentie] 
p. 217, e<L Dyce. . . . The passage quoted by Steevens from The Merry Devil of 
Edmonton, ... is perhaps decisive. [Dyce's note on Peele, ad loc. cU. adds two 
more examples : Middleton, A Trick to catch the old one, 1608, Sig. G. 4 : * let me 
hug thee farewell, and a thousand.' And Rowley, When you see me you know me 
[p. 26, ed. Elze], * God ye god night and Twenty, sir.'] — Dyce ( Gloss.) : That is, 
twenty times sweet ; A term of endearment ; Steevens cites, from The Merry Devil 
of Edmonton^ etc. — Deighton : A term of endearment, said to mean twenty times 
sweet. Steevens quotes The Merry Devil of Edmonton, etc. — W. A. Wright : 
That is, sweet kisses and twenty of them, twenty being used as a round number. . . . 
To read * sweet and twenty * as a vocative with Boswell [qu. Reed ?] is certainly 
wrong. Compare Merry Wives, II, i, 203, and Rowley [as above], and Two Noble 
Kinsmen, V, ii : * Wooer. I told her presently, and kiss'd her twice. Doctor, *Twas 
well done; twenty times had been far better.* And again in the same scene, 
^Daughter, And shall we kiss too? Wooer. A hundred times. Daugh. And 
twenty? Wooer. Ay, and twenty.' [These lines are omitted in the eds. of Knight, 
Simms, Skeat, and Rolfe. Steevens' s quotation, which many of those, who have 
accepted it as decisive, assert is to be found in The Merry Devil of Edmonton, is 
not in that play. Editors, as careful and exact as Dyce even, have been led into 
this erroneous assertion. They overlooked the fact that Steevens quotes from The 
Life and Death of The Merry Devil of Edmonton, — another play. I regret that I 
cannot verify Steevens' s quotation. I do not own the play, nor do I know where in 
this country it is to be found. It is not in the Catalogue of The Barton Library in 
Boston, nor in Allibone's Catalogue of the Shakespeare Department in The Lenox 
Library in New York; nor is it among the Spurious Plays (wherein The Merry 
Devil of Edmonton is sometimes reckoned) in the Shakespearian Catalogue of 
the British Museum. Certain it is, that it is not the same as The Merry Devil 
of Edmonton. In the Stationers^ Registers, under the date *22 0ctobris' (1607), 
we find entered, * A plaie called the Merry Devill of Edmonton.' ( — Arber's Tran- 
script, vol. iii, p. 362.) Then on the *5^<» Aprilis* (1608) there is entered 
* a booke called, the lyfe and deathe of the Merry Devill of Edmonton with the 
pleasant prank^s of Smugge the Smythe. Sir John, and myne Hoste of the George 
about their stealynge of Venson. by T. B.' ( — lb. p. 374, where Arber adds after the 
initials T. B. * [/. e. Thomas Brewer],' on what authority he does not state.) These 
are the same characters as those in The Merry Devil, and what is strange is that 
their poaching expedition after venison is an essential feature in the plot of the earlier 
play, which looks as though the later work were an enlargement or a revision of the 
earlier ; and it may not have been a play at all. The Stationer's entry terms it a 
' booke'; but no great stress can be laid on this ; the clerk was by no means scrupu- 
lously exact in his definitions. No author would willingly let die, so good a char- 
acter as Sir John, the Priest, with his solvent for every circumstance whether good 
or ill, *ahem, — grass and hay, — we're all mortal, — let's live till we die, and be 
merry, and there's an end'; he would be tempted to revive him in a second play, 
as Shakespeare continued FalstafT. (See Appendix, p. 418. ) 

Many of the foregoing quotations are not, I think, exactly parallel to the present 
phrase ; the * twenty * or the * hundred* or the * thousand * is repeated directly after 
a noun, such as 'evening,* 'day,' 'night,' 'farewell,* 'times.' Thus here, had 
the expression been, ' give me kisses sweet and twenty ' the meaning would have 
been clear and Theobald's punctuation inevitable. But in the text before us I can- 

1 1 6 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. iiL 

Youths a fluff e will not endure. 55 

An. A mellifluous voyce, as I am true knight. 

To. A contagious breath. 

An. Very fweet, and contagious ifaith. 

To. To heare by the nofe, it is dulcet in contagion. 
But fhall we make the Welkin dance indeed ? Shall wee 60 

rowze the night-Owle in a Catch, that will drawe three 
foules out of one Weauer ? Shall we do that ? 62 

55. Youths] Youth's F^F^. '78, Ran. 

56. /rue] a true Rowe, + , Var. '73, 59, 60. Line runs on, Rowe et scq. 

not but see a vocative term of endearment, and find therein the indescribable charm 
which differentiates poetry from prose. — Ed.] 

57-59. contagious . . . conUgion.] Deighton : By a misuse of 'contagious' 
Sir Toby ridicules Sir Andrew's 'mellifluous voice,' and Sir Andrew echoes the 
expression as though it were an apt description. Then, punning on the word 

* breath,' which he had just now used in the sense of voice, and perhaps imitating 
the Clown's fooling, so highly conMnended by Sir Andrew, Sir Toby says, < judging 
of the merit of his breath (1. e. his singing) by the nose, as we judge of scent, it b 
sweet in contagion, not foul as contagious breath (in its ordinary sense) usually i^' 
[Sir Toby may use 'contagious* as a high-sounding word to niatch Sir Andrew's 

* mellifluous,' but I doubt that he misuses it, or that he intends it otherwise than as a 
compliment to Feste. He uses * breath ' for the song (or the tune), and pronounces 
it catching or, in modern slang, 'catchy.' (Helena in Afid. N, D, (I, i, 198) says 
' sickness is catching,' i. e. contagious, ' O were favour so . . . My tongue should 
catch your tongue's sweet melodie.*) When Sir Toby sees that Sir Andrew has 
not perceived his meaning but takes 'contagious' in its ordinary sense, then he 
replies, in effect, ' ay, if a tune be contagious, or catching, then it must be caught, 
like contagion, through the nose, and this song is, in truth ['is' is the emphatic 
word] sweet in its contagiousness.' ' It' refers to song, not to the whole preceding 
clause. — Ed.] 

60. Welkin dance] Johnson : That is, drink till the sky seems to turn round. 
— Steevens : So, in Ant, &* Cleop, II, vii, 124 : ' Cup us, till the world go round.' 

61, 62. three soules . . . Weauer] Warburton: The expression of the power 
of music is familiar with our author. Much Ado, II, iii, 61 : 'Now is his soul rav- 
ished. Is it not strange that sheeps' guts should hale souls out of men's bodies?' 
— Why he says, ^ three souls,' is because he is speaking of a catch of three parts; 
and the peripatetic philosophy, then in vogue, very liberally gave every man three 
souls. The vegetative or ptastic, the animal, and the rcttional. To this, too, Jon- 
son alludes in his Poetaster : ' What ! will I turn shark upon my friends ? or my 
friends' friends? I scorn it with my three souls' [V, i, p. 513, ed. Gifford]. By the 
mention of these three, therefore, we may suppose it was Shakespeare's pur- 
pose to hint to us those surprising effects of music, which the ancients speak of, 
when they tell us of Amphion, who moved stones and trees ; Orpheus and Arion, 
who tamed savage beasts ; and Timotheus, who governed, as he pleased, the passions 
of his human auditors. So noble an observation has our author conveyed in the 
ribaldry of this buffoon character. [I have squandered the space for this note of 
Warburton in order to give the comment on it by] Coleridge (p. 120) : O genuine. 

ACT II, sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 117 

And. And you loue me, let^s doo't : I am dogge at a 63 


Clo. Byrlady fir, and fome dogs wiJl catch well. 65 

An. Mod certaine : Let our Catch be, TTtou Knaue. 

63. And'\ An Pope et scq. Rowe, + , Var. *73, *78, Ran. Var. '85, 

am dogge\ am a dog F^F^, Wh. i, Coll. ii. 

and inimitable (at least I hope so) Warburton ! This note of thine, if but one in 
^yt millions, would be half a one too much. — Farmer : In Carew*s translation of 
Huarte's TriaU of Wits^ I594» there a curious Chapter concerning the three souls. 
[The heading of Chap. IIII. is * It is prooued that the soule regetatiue, sensitiue, 
and reasonable, haue knowledge without that any thing be taught them, if so be 
that they possessethat conuenient temperature, which is requisite for their operation.' 
p. 32. — Ed.] — Malonb : I believe Shakespeare here only means to describe Sir 
Toby's catch as so harmonious that it would hale the soul out of a weaver (the 
wannest lover of a song) thrUe over; or in other words, give him thrice more 
delight than it would give any other man. — Halliwell quotes from Batman vppon 
Bartholomew 1582 : * If we take heed to the soule in comparison to his working, wee 
finde three manner of vertues, Vegetabilis^ that giueth lyfe, SemibUis^ that giueth 
feeling, Badanalis, that giueth reason,' etc. [Liber Tertius, Chap. 7, p. 14.] — W. 
A. Wright : That Shakespeare had in mind the three souls given to man by the 
peripatetic philosophers, as Warburton suggests, is open to serious doubt. To draw 
three souls out of one starved weaver can be nothing more than a humorously exag- 
gerated consequence of the power exerted by music, and to bring this about by a 
drinking song was a greater triumph still, for weavers were given to psalms. Com- 
pare / Hen, IV: II, iv, 147 : * I would I were a weaver ; I could sing psalms or 
anything.' See also Jonson, The Silent Woman^ III, ii : * He got this cold with 
sitting up late, and singing catches with cloth- workers.' — Deighton : An allusion 
to the peripatetic philosophy would spoil the point of the joke, and if it had been 
intended, we should have had <a weaver' instead of *• one weaver.' A like fond- 
ness for singing is ascribed, / Hen, IV: III, i, 264, to tailors whose occupation 
like that of weavers is a sedentary one. \^Hotspur, Come sing. Lady Percy, I will 
not sing. Hotspur » 'Tis the next way to turn tailor.'] 

63. I am dogge] Haluwell : There does not appear, from the annexed exam- 
ples, to be a necessity for the particle [* a ' supplied in the Third and Fourth Folios] : 
*I remember my great grandfather's grandmother's sister's coosen told mee, that 
pigges and French-men speake one language, awee^ awee ; I am dogg at this,' — 
Englishmen for my Money, [Written in 1598, by William Haughton.] ' I myselfe 
have knowne many old women old dogge at this kind of divination.' — Melton's 
Astrt^ogaster^ 1620. ^ Jane, No, no, we'll have a bout at blindmans-buff and a 
dance first Jobson, Ay, ay, come, I'm old dogg at that.' — The Devil of a Wife^ 
1686. [Thus also Lodge's Wits Miserie : * He is dog at recognisances and statutes.^ 
p. 33, ed. Hunterian Gub. — Ed.] 

65. Byrlady] In Tit, And, IV, iv, 48, this is spelled < ber Lady ' in the First 
Folio ; and in Hamlet^ II, ii, 406, it appears as < Berlady ' in the Second, Third, and 
Fourth Folios. Walker {Vers, 191) says it was pronounced *beer lady,' but 
possibly, he has given too long a sound of /. — Ed. 

66. Thou knaue] Hawkins : A 'catch' is a species of vocal hannony to be 



[act II, sc. iiu 

Clo. Hold thy peace ^ iJiou Knaue knight. I fhall be con- 6j 

ftrain'd in't, to call thee knaue, Knight. 

An, 'Tis not the firft time I haue conftrained one to 
call me knaue. Begin foole : it begins, Hold thy peace. yo 

Clo. I fhall neuer begin if I hold my peace. 

67. Knaue Jkntg-^,"] knave j knight, '78 et seq. (subs.) 
Rowe, + , Var. '73. knave knight f 71. I Jhall'\ Shall I Y ^ ^, 

Cap. (Errata), knave, knight? Var. 

■^ ■ M —MM - _ 

sung by three or more persons ; and is so contrived, that though each sings precisely 
the same notes as his fellows, yet by beginning at stated periods of time from each 
other, there results from the performance a harmony of as many parts as there are 
singers. Compositions of this kind are, in strictness, called Canons in the unison ; 
and as properly Catches, when the words in the different parts are made to catch or 
answer each other. One of the most remarkable examples of a true catch is that of 
Purcell, Lefs live good honest lives , in which, immediately after one person has 
uttered these words, * What need we fear the Pope ?' another in the course of his 
singing fills up a rest which the first makes, with the words ' The devil.* The 
< catch * to be sung by Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and the Clown, from the hints given 
of it, appears to be so contrived as that each of the singers calls the other knave in 
turn ; and for this the Clown means to apologise to the knight, when he says he 
shall be constrained to call him knave. I have here subjoined the very catch, with 
the musical notes to which it was sung in the time of Shakespeare, and at the origi- 
nal performance of this comedy. The evidence of its authenticity is as follows : 
There is extant a book entitled, * Pammelia, Musickes Miscellanie, or mixed Varietie 
of pleasant Roundelays and delightful Catches of 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Parts in one.' 
Of this book there are at least two editions, the second printed in 16 18. In 1609, 
a second part of this work was published with the title of Deuteromelia, and in this 
book is contained the catch here given. [Ipstead of the antiquated notes reproduced 
by Sir John Hawkins, Knight's setting is here given, < put into the treble clef, instead 
of the contratenor,' — 




i. J X. i^ 



Hold thy peace I and I pri - thee hold thy peace. 






Thou knave 

Hold thy peace. 

thou knave ! 



Thou knave ! 

Collier : A performance of the same character, where the singers call each other 
*fool,' (the music by John Bennett,) is in Ravenscroft's Briefe Discourses, etc, 
London, 16 14. 

ACT II, sc. m.J OR, WHAT YOU WILL 119 

An, Good ifaith : Come begin. Catch fung 72 

Enter Maria, 

Mar, What a catterwalling doe you keepe heere ? If 
my Ladie haue not call'd vp her Steward Maluolio^ and 75 

bid him tume you out of doores, neuer truft me. 

Toy My Lady's a Catayany we are politicians, Maluolios 
a Peg-a-ramfie, and Three merry men be wee. Am not I 78 

72. Catch fung] Catch fing. F F^. 74. catterwaUing'\ ccUterwauling 
They sing a catch. Rowe. Theob. 

73. Scene IV. Pope, + . 77. Maluolios] Maluolio's F^F^. 

77. Catayan] More than a hundred and twenty years ago Steevens said that it 
is in vain to seek for the precise meaning of this term of reproach, and the remark, 
unfortunately, still holds good. Dr Murray ( N, E. D. ) is reduced to quoting Nares, 
whose definition is founded on what Steevens had said in a note on the word in The 
Merry Wives, II, i, 148: 'I will not believe such a Catalan, though the priest o' 
the town commended him for a true man,' where Steevens suggests that, the con- 
trast with * true man ' shows that < Cataian ' means a thief. Theobald (Nichols, 
lUust, ii, 276) suggested as a cause of its obnoxious signification the lamentable fail- 
ure on the part of Frobisher to make good his golden promises of treasure from 
his voyages to China, or Cataia, as it was then called ; hence a * Cataian ' became a 
byeword for one who promised more than he could perform, and therefore a liar. 
Steevens notes that 'Cataian' is found in D'Avenant's Love and Honour^ and 
Nares adds, in the sense of sharper. The whole passage, not given by Steevens, is 
as follows : ' Hang him, bold Cataian, he indites finely ; And will live as well by 
sending short epistles. Or by sad whisper at your gamester's elbow ... as any bash- 
ful Gallant of 'em all.' — II, i. ' Cataian ' may here bear the meaning Nares ascribes 
to it, but it is somewhat doubtful ; the Cataian referred to by his detractor, was a 
valiant high-souled Prince of Parma. It is, perhaps, not difficult to see how Sir 
Toby happens to call his niece a * Cataian ' ; he was in that stage of drunken- 
ness when mere sounds connect words having no relationship to each other ; he 
had heard Maria accuse the whole party of 'caterwauling,' and straightway the 
sequence was clear to him that if he was a ' r<j/^rwauler' his niece was a * Gi/aian.' 

77. politicians] Shakespeare generally uses ' politician ' in a derogatory sense ; 
it is possible, therefore, that its present use by Sir Toby may be intended to show that 
the knight was too drunk to know that his epithet was by no means complimentary. 
See Sir Andrew's use of the word. III, ii, 32. — Ed. 

78. Peg-a-ramsie] Chappell (p. 218) : There are two tunes under the name 
of Peg-a- Ramsey, and both as old as Shakespeare's time. The first is called Peg-a- 
Ramsey in William Ballets Lute Book, and is given by Sir John Hawkins as the 
tune quoted in Thveifth Night, Ramsey, in Huntingdonshire, was formerly an 
important town. [The music is given by Hawkins, in the Variorum ; by Knight, 
in his Illustrations; and by Naylor, p. 188; it is superfluous to repeat it here. 
Sir Toby does not allude to ' Peg-a-Ramsey ' as a song, and no words are given 
with the music, indeed, they could not be with propriety, if, as it is alleged, 
they are the same as a coarse Song in D'Urfey's Songs CompUat, etc., v, 139. 
I cannot see that Chappell' s note, quoted at greater length by Dyce, Halliwell, and 



[act II, sc. iii. 

confanguinious? Am I not of her blood : tilly vally. La- 
die, Titer e dwelt a man in Babylon^Lady^Lcuiy. 


79. Am Inof\ Am not I F^F^, Rowe, Ff. vally ^ Lady ! Rowe, + . vally / 
Pope, Han. Lady! Cap. 

79, 8a vally, Ladie^ vally. Lady! So. Lady.] Lady [Singing] Rowe. 

others, throws any illumination whatever on the text Why Sir Toby called BCal- 
▼olio a Peg-a-Ramsey, or wherein consisted the opprobrium, no one, I suppose, 
but Sir Toby can tell.— Ed.] 

78. Three . . . wee] Steevens : The fragment of some old song ; perhaps the 
following, in The Old Wiues Tale by Peele, 1595, may be the original. Anticke, 
one of the characters, says : ' — let us rehearse the old proverb : Three merry men, 
and three merry men. And three merry men be we ; I in the wood, and thou on the 
ground. And Jack sleeps in the tree.' [I, i, p. 208, ed. Dyce.] I find it repeated in 
Dekker and Webster's Westward Hoy 1607, [V, iii, p. 125, ed. Dyce] ; and by 
Beaumont & Fletcher, in The Knight of the Burning Pestle^ [i^ii, II, Tiii, ed. 
Dyce,] ; again, in The Bloody Brother^ of the same authors : < Three merry boySy 
and three merry boys. And three merry boys are we, As ever did sing in a hempen 
string Under the gallow-tree' [III, ii, ed. Dyce]; again, in Bam Alley ^ x6li 
[II, i]. — Hawkins : This is a conclusion common to many old songs. One of the 
most humourous that I recollect, is the following : < The Wisemen were but seven, 
nere more shall be for me ; The Muses were but nine, the Worthies three times three ; 
And three merry boyes^ and three merry boyes are we. The Virtues were but seven, 
and three the greater be ; The Caesars they were twelve, and fatal Sisters three ; 
And three merry girles^ and three merry girles are we.* [Antidote against Melancholy^ 
1661, p. 85, Collier's Beprint.] — Chappell (p. 216) : The tune is contained in a 
MS commonplace book, in the handwriting of John Playford, the publisher of TJU 
Dancing Master. [The following arrangement, which is somewhat simpler than 
Chappell's, is given from Naylor (p. 188). 






Three mer - ry men, and three mer • ry men, and 



• ^' n r 



three mer - ry men 



in the wood and 



r I f r f 



thou on the ground. And Jack sleeps in 



79. tilly vally] Johnson : An interjection of contempt, which Sir Thomas 
More's lady is recorded to have had very often in her mouth. — Steevens : It may 
be a corruption of the Roman word (without a precise meaning, but indicative of 
contempt) Titiznlitium. See the Casina of Plautus. [<Non ego istuc verbiun 
emissim titivillitio * — II, v, 39. One can never be sure that Steevens is in earnest. 
The Century Dictionary pronounces the origin obscure. — Ed.] — Narbs : The 

ACT II, sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 12I 

Clo. Befhrew me, the knights in admirable fooling. 81 

An. I, he do^s well enough if he be difpos'd, and fo 
do I too : he does it with a better grace, but I do it more 
naturall. 84 

81. knights] knight's Ff. 

Hostess corrupts it to « tilly-fally ' in 2 Hen. IV: II, iv, 90 : * Tilly-fally, Sir John, 
ne'er tell me ; your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors.' We read, in the 
life of Sir Thomas More, that his wife, who was a loquacious troublesome woman, 
was much addicted to the use of this expression ; of which two remarkable instances 
are given. One when Sir Thomas had resigned the seals, she said : ' Tillie Tallie, 
tillie vallie, what will you do, Mr. More, will you sit and make goslings in the 
ashes ?' The other, when he was in prison in The Tower, where, when he asked, 
' Is not this house as near heaven as mine own ?' she answered, after her custom, 
'Tillie vallie, tillie vallie.' Both these are in Dibdin's Introd, to Utopia^ p. zv. 
— Heath says it corresponds \o fiddU faddle, 

79. 80. vally. Ladie] From RowE to Capell the words ' tilly vally. Ladie ' 
are printed in Italics, as though part of the song ; (Caulfield actually gives the music 
for them). Staunton prints * Lady ' in Italics, apparently for the same reason that 
Rowe so printed the whole phrase. It was Capell who first perceived that they 
were part of Sir Toby's speech, and punctuates, as I think, properly. 'Lady' 
might be, possibly, in quotation marks; it refers, I think, to Maria's use of it to 
intimidate Sir Toby into better behaviour. This it is, which rouses his indignation, 
that she should be ' Lady ' to him who was consanguineous, one of her blood ; and 
he pronounces the word contemptuously. Again, as before in 'caterwauling,' 
'Lady' here suggests the Babylonian song. — Ed. 

80. There dwelt, etc.] T. Warton : The ballad whence this line is taken was 
licensed by T. Col well, in 1562, under the title of 'the godly and constante Wyfe 
Susanna' [Arber*s Transcript (i, 210) reads 'wise Susanna.— Ed.] — Percy (i, 
187) : This old ballad is preserved in the Pepys Collection, but is so poor a perform- 
ance that it will be sufficient here to give the first stanxa : ' There dwelt a man in 
Babylon Of reputation great by fame, He took to wife a faire woman, Susanna she 
was callde by name ; A wonum fair and vertuous ; Lady, lady ; Why should we not 
of her learn thus To live godly?' — ^Tyrwhitt: A song with the same burthen is 
alluded to in Jonson's Magnetic Lady^ ' Compass, As true it is, lady, lady, in the 
song. '[IV, iii.] — M alone: The oldest song that I have seen with this burden is 
in the old Morality, entided The Trial of Treasure^ 1567.— Coluer : In the 
volume of Old Ballads^ printed for the Percy Society, 1840, is one by Elderton to 
the same tune, printed as early as 1559. It is entided, ' The Panges of Love, and 
Lcver^ Fittes* — Hallhvell : Sir Hugh, in the original sketch of the Merry fVives, 
ed. 1602, quotes the first line of this ballad. There are several known black-letter 
editions of the ballad, varying slightly from each other. The burden ' Lady, lady ' is 
rery common in old ballads. — Naylor (p. 189) gives a musical setting of this ballad 
which is anonymous, and, he remarks, ' most probably later than Shakespeare's time.' 

81. Beehrevir me] W. A. Wright : Literally, may mischief befall me. It was 
used merely as a strong asseveration, as similar expressions are still by persons whose 
vocabulary is limited. 

84. natural] Inasmuch as a 'natural' means an idiot, Abbott (p. 497) thinks 
(bat there is here ' a pun.' 

122 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sa iii. 

To, O the twelfe day of December. 85 

Mar. For the loue o'God peace. 

Enter Maluolio. 

Mai. My maflers are you mad ? Or what are you ? 
Haue you no wit, manners, nor honeftie, but to gabble 
like Tinkers at this time of night ? Do yee make an Ale- 90 

houfe of my Ladies houfe, that ye fqueak out your Cozi- 
ers Catches without any mitigation or remorfe of voice? 
Is there no refpeft of place, perfons, nor time in you ? 

To. We did keepe time fir in our Catches. Snecke vp. 94 

85. O] Oh ! Ktly. 9i> 92. Coziers\ CosUrf Han. Dycc 

the twelfe] F,. twelf FjF^. Cottiers Warb. Clothiers' Quincey 

twelfth Rowe, Pope, the twelfth Theob. MS. 

et seq. 94. Snecke vp.'\ F,. Strike up, Rowe 

December.] December, [Singing] ii, Pope, Han. Sneck up / [Hiccoughs.] 

Rowe et seq. (subs.) December^ — Theob. Warb. Johns. Sneck-upl Cap. 

Theob. Warb. et seq. Sta. sneak-cup ? Cap. conj. Ran. Snick 

%^, gabbWl gobble Qo\\.}A.% 9.^, C2Lm, up! Coll. Snick-up I Dyce, Huds. 

91. ye"} you Han. Huds. Sneck up, or sneck up ! F^F^ et cet 

85. O the twelfe] Walker {Crit, i, 104) : Read * a th' twelfth/ etc It is 
the first line of a narrative ballad. — Collier (ed. ii.) : No other trace remains of 
this ballad. Opposite these words, in the MS, we find written * 17 Nov.,* which 
may mean that in the time of the annotator a song on the 17th Not. (the anniver- 
sary of Elizabeth's accession) was substituted for the then perhaps forgotten piece 

* O ! the twelfUi day of December.* 

89. but to gabble] Abbott (§ 122) : That is, to prevent yon from gabbling. 
[Where see other examples of this * but * signif3ring prevention.] 

90. Tinkers] Schmidt (Lex, ) : Proverbial tipplers and would-be politicians. 
[That tinkers were of the lowest order, classed with gipsies and vagabonds, and 
their trade a noisy one, are sufficient reasons for Malvolio's application of the word. 
It is their gabbling like tinkers, not their drinking like tinkers that he denounces. 

91. 92. Coziers] Murray (A^. E, D.)i A Cobbler; an adaptation of the Old 
French cousere seamster, tailor, accusative couseor, -eur^ formed on coudre^ cousanty 
to sew ; cf. Spanish coser^ to sew. 

94. keepe time] Naylor (p. 87) : To *keep time' is almost the only virtue a 
catch singer must have. 

94. Snecke vp] Steevens : The modem editors seem to have regarded thb 
unintelligible phrase as the designation of a hiccup [See Text, Notes'], It is, how- 
ever, used in Beaumont & Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle : * No, Michael, 
let thy father go sneck up.' [II, ii, * snick-up,' ed. Dyce.] Again, in the same play : 

* give him his money, George, and let him go sneck up.' [Ill, ii, * snick-up,' ed. 
Dyce.] Again, in Wily Beguiled: * An if my mistress would be ruled by him, 
Sophos might go snick -up.' [p. 285, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley.] Again, in Two Angrie 
Women of Abington^ 1 599 : * his men be good fellows, so it is ; if they be not, let 
them go snick up.' [p. 272, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley.] Again, in Heywood's Fair Maid 

ACT II, sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 123 

MaL Sir Toby^ I muft be round with you. My Lady 95 

bad me tell you, that though (he harbors you as her kinf- 
man, she's nothing ally'd to your diforders. If you can 
feparate your felfe and your mifdemeanors^ you are wel- 
come to the houfe : if not, and it would pleafe you to take 
leaue of her, fhe is very willing to bid you farewell. 100 

96. thai though'\ that F^F^, Rowe, 96,97. kinfman\ £7/if /^ Rowe ii, + . 

Pope, Han. 99. and it\ an it Pope et seq. 

of the West : * i Drawer, Bess, you must fill some wine into the Portcullis ; the 
gentlemen there will drink none but of your drawing. Spencer, She shall not rise, 
sir. Go, let your master snick-up. I Draw, And that should be cousin-german to 
the hick-up.' [p. 12, ed. Sh. Soc.] In / Hen. IV: III, iii, 99, FalsUff says, « How ! 
the prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup,' i. e. one who takes his glass in a sneaking'manner. 
I think we might safely read sneak- cup, at least, in Sir Toby's reply to MaWolio. 
[CapelPs conjecture ; see Text, Notes,"] — Mmx)NE : This cant phrase occurs in 
many of the old comedies. From the connection in all of them, it seems to have 
been synonymous to the modem expression, <Go hang yourself.' — Croft (p. 10) 
would omit all punctuation in the line, and interpret it, < We did keep time in our 
catches close together.' — Boswell : Weber, in a note on the passage from The 
Knight of the Burning Pestle, has clearly shown that * snick up ' meant go hang 
yourself, by the following very apposite quotation from Taylor, the Water Poet's 
Praise of Hempseed : *To end this matter, thus much I assure you, A Tibume 
Hempen-caudell well will cure you. It can cure Traytors, but I hold it fit T' apply 't 
ere they the treason doe commit ; Wherefore in Sparta it ycleped was, Snickup, 
which is in English Gallow-grasse.' [p. 552, ed. Spenser Soc.— tf/. Wright.]—* R. R.' 
(A^. ^ Qu, 1st, i, 467, May, 1850) quotes from Halliwell's Archaic Diet. : * Sneck^ 
that part of the iron fastening of a door which is raised by moving the latch. To sneck 
a door is to latch it ' ; and, therefore, concludes that Sir Toby means, close up, shut 
up. — Halliwell : A phrase of great indignation and contempt, equivalent to, be 
hanged ! It was possibly a corruption of, his neck up I A rural charm for the 
hiccough commences <hick-up, snick -up.' The phrase snick up is still used in the 
eastern Counties in England in the sense of begone, away with you ! [Halliwell 
here adds two or three examples to those given above, of the use of the phrase, but 
none more conclusive than that from Taylor the Water Poet, nor better than the fol- 
lowing from ChAPPELL (p. 289), quoted by Staunton ; it is somewhat late in date, 
but • 'twill serve'; it is from a song *by Patrick Carey, a loyal cavalier, on bidding 
farewell to his hospitable entertainers at Wickham, in 1651] : * And now, helter- 
skelter, to th* rest of the house ; The most are good fellows, and love to carouse ; 
Who's not, may go sneck-up; he's not worth a louse That stops a health i' th' 

95. round] W. A. Wright : That is, plainspoken, straightforward. So in Hen, 
V: IV, i, 216 : * Your reproof is something too round.' And Hamlet, III, ii, 191 : 
* Let her be round with him.' Again in Bacon, Essay i, p. 3 : * It will be acknowl- 
edged, even by those, that practise it not, that cleare and Round dealing is the Hon- 
our of Mans Nature.' 

99, 100. it would . . . she is] See Abbott, § 371, for other examples where 
'the consequent does not answer to the antecedent in mood or tense.' 

124 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. iii. 

To. Farewell deere hearty fince I muft needs be gone. loi 

Mar. Nay good Sir Toby. 

Clo. His eyes do fhew his dayes are almofl done. 

Mai. Is't euen fo ? 

To. But I will neuer dye. 105 

Clo. Sir Toby there you lye. 

Mai. This is much credit to you. 

To. Shall I bid him go. 

Clo. What and if you do ? 

To. Shall I bid him go , and /pare not f 1 1 

Clo. O noy nOy no^ noy you dare not. 

loi. As a quotation, Theob. etseq. 105. tuuer] fuveryY^ 

[Singing. Han. 108. go.] goe? Ff. gof [Singing] 

102. Mar.] Mai. Popey + »Var. Ran. Rowe. 

Mai. Steev. Su. 109. and if] an if Theob. et seq. 

103. As a quotation, Theob. et seq. 1 11. no, no, no, no,] no, no, no, F^, 
105. As a quotation, [singing] Han. Rowe, + . 

[Falls down drunkenly. Hal. 

101-106. It will be noticed that the snatches of the Song are not printed in 
Italics, as they should be, until we come to line 108. For this I know of no expla- 
nation other than that, owing to the interspersed prose, the compositor did not at first 
recognise, from his reader's voice, that they were lines of a song. From Maria's 
remonstrance, ' Nay, good sir Toby,' it is to be inferred that the knight addressed 
his * Farewell, dear heart' personally to her, accompanied with some tipsy demon- 
strations of affection. In the Clown's, <Sir Toby there you lye,' Capkll (ii, 146) 
detects < a waggish remark in tune upon a great stumble of Sir Toby's which brings 
him almost upon his nose.' See Halliwell's stage-direction in Text, Notes, — Ed. 

loi-iii. Farewell deere heart, etc.] Percy (i, 187): Corydon^s Farewell to 
Phyllis — is an attempt to point a lover's irresolution, but so poorely executed, that 
it would not have been admitted into this collection, if it had not been quoted in 
Tluelftk Night. It is found in a little ancient miscellany intitled The golden Gar* 
land of princely delights ^ 12 mo. bl. let. [The ' Farewell ' extends to five stanzas ; it 
is only from the first two, here given, that Sir Toby and Feste sing snatches] : 

Farewell, dear love ; since thou wilt needs begone. 
Mine eyes do shew, my life is almost done. 
Nay I will never die, so long as I can spie 
There be many mo, though that she doe goe. 
There be many mo, I fear not ; 
Why then let her goe, I care not. 

Farewell, farewell ; since this I find is true, 
I will not spend more time in wooing you ; 

But I will seek elsewhere, if I may find love there ; 
Shall I bid her goe ? what and if I doe ? 
Shall I bid her goe and spare not ? 
O nOf no, no, I dare not. 

^ACT II, sc. iii.] 



To. Out o'tune fir, ye lye : Art any more then a Stew- 112 

112. tutu fir f'\ tune^ sir, Rowe, Pope, 
Han. Cap. Var. '78, '85. time, sir? 
Theob. Wh. i, Dyce, Rife, Huds. time, 
sir, Warb. Johns. Var. '73, Ran. Mai. 
Wh. ii. time? sir, Steev. Var. '03, '13, 

*2I, Knt, Hal. tunef—Sir, Coll. i, ii, 
Ktly. tune, sir f Sta. tune, sir : Glo. 
Cam. time! — sir. Coll. iii. 
112. Art'\ Art thou Rowe, + . 

Haluwell-Phillipps (Outlims, etc., p. 264) : This ballad first appeared in the 
Booke of Ayres composed by Robert Jones, 1 60 1. Jones does not profess to be the 
author of the words of this song, for he observes, — 'If the ditties dislike thee, 'tis 
my fault that was so bold to publish the private contentments of divers gentlemen 
without their consents, though, I hope, not against their wils ' ; but there is every 
reason to believe that the ditty referred to in Twelfth Night was first published in 
this work, a collection of new, not of old, songs. [The music in the Booke of Ayres, 
I am not able to give ; I do not know that it has been ever reprinted. It is not in 
Chappell. The following is from John Caulfield's Collection of the Vocal Music 
of Shakespear* s Plays . . . Chiefly from the Collection of JV, Kitchener, Esf M, D, 
. . . Arranged by Mr, Addison, n. d. 



HH^J- c I r^T+^ ^-JiUAt-^ 


Fare well dear heart, since I must needs be gone His eyes do 









shew his days are al - most done. But I will nev - er, nev - er 


nev - er die. Oh there Sir To - by, there, oh there you lie. 

This is reprinted by Naylor (p. 190), who adds that it * can' hardly be the original 
tune of Corydon^s Faretvell to Phillis.* — Ed.] 

106. you lye] R. G. White (cd. i) : The original has 'there thou lie,* — a mis- 
take caused by the common use of y for th in monosyllables. [This may possibly be 
an illustration of the fact that copies of the First Folio, like many other books 
printed at that time, vary in trifling particulars. The word is • you ' in my own 
copy of the Folio ; it is *you* in Booth's inimitable Reprint; also in Staunton's 
Photolithograph, and the Cambridge Editors have no record of any other reading. 
If White had access to a First Folio, and spoke from personal knowledge, the vari- 
ation would be undoubted, but, I think, he must have consulted Vemor & Hood's 
Reprint, of 1807, where the word in question is printed ' thou.' In a MS list (made 
by Upcott, and now before me) of errors in this Reprint, thou in the present line 
is marked as a misprint for * you.' — Ed.] 

112. Out o' tune] Theobald silently changed *tune* to time, presumably to 
bring it into accord with what Sir Toby had said in line 94 ; he has been followed 

126 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. iiu 

ard? Doft thou thinke becaufe thou art vertuous, there 113 
(hall be no more Cakes and Ale ? 

Clo. Yes by ^. Anne, and Ginger fhall bee hotte y'th 1 1 S 
mouth too. 

115. ^. Anney'\ S. Ann, F^. Saint Anne y Ran. Cam. Rife. Saint Anne ; Rowe 
et cet. 

by the majority of editors. — Malone : In the MSS of our author's age, tune and 
time are often quite indistinguishable ; the second stroke of the u seeming to be the 
first stroke of the «, or vice verstL Hence, in Macbeth^ IV, iii, 235, in the First 
Folio we have 'This time goes manly' instead of 'This tune^* etc. [See also 
* untunable * in As You Like It, V, iii, 36, 37, where the context makes it doubtful 
that the true reading be not untimeable, — Ed.] — Collier (who adhered to *tune' 
in two editions, but silently adopted time in his third) : All that Sir Toby means is, 
that the Clown had sung out of tune. ' Sir, ye lie !' is addressed to Malvolio for 
the purpose of affronting him. — Dyce : The whole of this line is obviously spoken 
to Malvolio. 7^ Clown would hardly sing out of tune; he is the singer of the play. 
— R. G. White (Shakespeare's Scholar^ p. 285) : Theobald's correction, time^ is 
manifesdy demanded. . . . The intoxicated knight reverts, in the true revolving style 
of drunken thought, to the remark [of Malvolio in line 93] to which he had first 
replied ; and again, with comical earnestness, defends the party against the sup- 
posed or assumed attack upon their musical accuracy. The text [of the First Folio] 
destroys one fine exhibition of the poet's knowledge of the workings of the mind 
under all circumstances. — Staunton: Very needlessly changed to * out of time!* 
in most editions. Sir Toby desires an excuse for insulting the Steward, and finds it 
in pretending he had decried their singing. [I think the Folio is exacdy right, and 
that the words are addressed to Feste. Throughout the singing both Sir Toby and 
Feste have changed the sex in the original Song from * her ' to him, in order to make 
it fit the hour and Malvolio. To Sir Toby's question, < Shall I bid him go and spare 
not?' Feste gives a more emphatic denial than the metre allows; the original has 
only three * noes,' Feste adds a fourth, this extra ' no ' of course demanded an extra 
note (possibly sung fortissimo) , which Sir Toby detects and says 'Out o* tune, sir !' 
then, resenting this most pronounced imputation on his courage, that he dare not bid 
Malvolio go, he adds * ye lie.' Whereupon, to prove his courage he turns on Mal- 
volio with, *Art anymore,' etc. — Ed.] 
112. Art] See line 28, above. 

1 14. Cakes and Ale] Letherland : It was the custom on holidays and saints' 
days to make cakes in honour of the day. The Puritans called this superstition. 
See Quarlous's account of Rabbi Busy in Jonson's Bartholomew Fair. [The scene 
referred to, is as follows : ' Winwife, What call you the reverend elder you told me 
of, your Banbury man ? Littlewit, Rabbi Busy, sir ; he is more than an elder, he 
is a prophet, sir. Quarlous, O, I know him ! a baker, is he not ? Lit. He was 
a baker, sir, but he does dream now, and see visions ; he has given over his 
trade. Quar. I remember that too ; out of a scruple he took, that, in spiced con- 
science, those cakes he made, were served to bridales, may-poles, morrices, and 
such profane feasts and meetings. His christian-name is Zeal-of-the-land. Lit. 
Yes, sir; Zeal-of-the-land Busy.' I, i, p. 385, ed. Gifford.] 

115. S.Anne] Why Feste and Christopher Sly should both swear by Saint 

ACT II, SC. iii.] 



To. Th'art Tth right. Goe fir, rub your Chaine with 
crums. A ftope of Wine Maria. 

Mai. Miflris Mary, if you prizM my Ladies fauour 
at any thing more then contempt, you would not giue 
meanes for this vnciuill rule ; fhe fhall know of it by this 
hand. Exit 




117. TV art] TyiwiV/ Rowe et scq. 

118. Jlope] Ft stoup Cam. Rife, 
Dtn, Wh. ii. stocp Rowe et ceL 

121. this] his Ktly. 

of it by] of itf by Rowe et seq. 

Anoe, I do not know. In Chambers' Book of Days (ii, 389) a *• whimsical satire of 
the sixteenth century ' is given, wherein we find : ' St. Anne gives wealth and living 
great to such as love her most. And is a perfect finder out of things that have been 
lost.' In The Two Angry Women of Abington^ Mall Barnes says, ' Now, by Saint 
Anne, I will not die a maid.' p. 292, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley. — Ed. 

115. Ginger] Gerarde {^HerbaUy p. 62) classes ginger, 'canded, greene, or con- 
dited,' among the aphrodisiacs. — Ed. 

117, 118. Chaine with crums] Johnson: I suppose it should be read, <nib 
your chin with crums,' alluding to what had been said before that. Malvolio was only 
a steward, and consequently dined after his lady. [This emendation continued to 
i^ppear in the Variorums of 1773 and 1778, but in the Variorum of 1785, the first 
after Dr Johnson's death, it was mercifully suppressed. — Ed.] — Steevens : Stewards 
anciently wore a chain as a mark of superiority over other servants. Thus, in 
Lov^s Cure by Beaumont & Fletcher, < Piorato, Is your chain right ? Bobadilla, 
It is both right and just, sir ; For though I am a steward, I did get it With no man's 
wrong.' [Ill, ii. Again in the same Play, II, ii, Qara says, *Thou false and per- 
emptory steward ! For I will hang thee up in thine own chain ' ; Dyce thereupon 
remarks : * That in great families, a gold chain was worn by stewards appears from 
innumerable passages of our early writers.' It is needless, therefore, to multiply 
examples. The following apt quotation will suffice, it not only confirms the wear- 
ing of chains, but also the mode of cleaning them recommended to Malvolio ; 
Steevens quotes from Webster's, Dutchess of Afaifi^ * Fourth Officer, How scurvy 
proud he would look, when the treasury was full ! well, let him go. First Officer, 
Yes, and the chippings of the buttery fly after him, to scour his gold chain.' Ill, ii, 
p. 241, ed. Dyce. There is a reference to a « usurer's chain' in Much Ado, II, i, 
183.— Ed.] 

121. vnciuill rule] Johnson: 'Rule' is method of life; so misrule is tumult 
and riot. — Steevens : * Rule ' on this occasion is something less than common 
* method of life.' It occasionally means the arrangement or conduct of a festival or 
merry-making, as well as behavior in general. So, in Dra)rton, Polyolbion^ The 
hoenty-seventh Song, * Cast in a gallant round about the hearth they go, And at each 
pause they kiss, was never seen such rule In any place but here, at bonfire, or at 

Yule.' [p. 375, ed. 1748.] Again, in Jonson's Taie of a Tub, * Puppy. lei 

them go Into the bam vrith a warrant, seize the fiend, And set him in the stocks for 
his ill rule.' [IV, v, p. 217. ed. Gifford.]— Halliwell quotes from Calthrop's 
Reports^ 1670: *No man shall after the hour of nine at night, keep any rule 
whereby any such sudden outcry be made in the still of the night, as making any affray 
or beating his wife, or servant, or singing, or revelling in his house,' etc — Dyce 

128 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. iii. 

Mar. Go fhake your eares. 123 

An, 'Twere as good a deede as to drink when a mans 

a hungrie, to challenge him the field, and then to breake 125 

promife with him, and make a foole of him. 

123. Mar.] Mai. F^. 125. thefield^ Ff, Rowe i, Knt,Coll. 

125. a hungrif] hungry Var. '21. ii, Hal. Dyce, Cam. Sta. Rife, Huds. 

a-hungry Coll. Dyce, Cam. Ktly. Din, "Wh. ii. to the field Rowe ii et cet 

{G/oss.) : I believe [*rule*] is equivalent to * revel, noisy sport': Coles has 'Rule 
(stir), Tumultus.^ — Lat, and Eng. Diet,; and compare night^ru/e, 

121, 122. by this hand] See I, iii, 34. 

123. shake your eares] Halliwell : In the Epitaph of the worthie knight Sir 
Henrie Sidney, Lord President of Wales, 1 591, we read, — * Hence, therefore. Death ! 
go shake thine eares.' Again, in Howell's Familiar Letters^ 1650, < This being one 
day done, they shut their gates against him, and made him go shake his ears, and 
to shift his lodging,' etc. — Walker {Crit. iii, 85) : See Beaumont & Fletcher's 
Coxcomby II, iii, — * Servant, Cannot I deliver it [a letter] ? Antonio, No, by my 
trot and fait, canst thou not, man. Servant. Well, sir, I'll call her to you; pray, 
shake your ears Without a little.' — Rushton (TV. <Sr» Qu, IVth, x, 369) calls attention 
to the use of the phrase in Lyly's Euphues and his England : * Philautus was glad 
he slept so long, and was awaked in so good time, beeing as weary of the seas, as 
he that neuer vsed them. Euphues not sorrowfull of this good newes, began to 
shake his eares, and was soone apparailed.'[p. 251, ed. Arber.] — W. A. Wright: 
Compare Jul. Cas, IV, i, 26 : * And having brought our treasure where we will. 
Then take we down his load, and turn him off, Like to an empty ass, to shake his 
ears. And graze in common.' [Thus, Stubbes (Christall Glasse^ etc, 1591, p. 205, 
ed. New Sh. Soc. ) reports the words of his wife which she addressed to Satan, 
shortly before her death, in a conflict for her soul : * thou maist get thee packing, 
thou damned dog, & go shake thine eares, for in me hast thou nought.' The present 
passage is frequendy interpreted as equivalent to calling Mai vol io an ass. But in 
view of the seriousness with which the phrase is used in the foregoing quotations, 
the reference to an ass is by no means certain. It is quite probable that the phrase 
might have been originally derived from that animal, but long usage had obscured 
its origin and rendered it respectable. At the same time, it is not prudent to put 
limits to Maria's contempt. — Ed.] 

125. him the field] Colx,ier (ed. ii) : The authentic expression in cases of the 
kind. — Schmidt (Lex. s. v. challenge) ; Perhaps ^ to field.' Compare Rom. ^ Jul, 
III, i, 61, <go before to field.' [Not an editor gives a parallel instance of this use 
of ' field ' without a preposition. Dyce notes that the phrase has here been changed 
to * to the field ' and adds * improperly, I believe.' Murray {N. E. D. s. v. chal- 
lengey fc) gives but three examples, one is doubtful, another is the present line, and 
the third is of the year 1693 > *^® ^''^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ***^ *^ follows : * [1556 Chron. G. 
Friars ( 1 852) 7 * Roberte of Vere chalynched them in the field and was ouercome.] ' 
< 1693 W. Robertson, Phraseol. Gen. 477 * The disagreement grew so high, that they 
challenged the field one of another.' [Ibid. 601, To challenge one into the field: 
in arenam provocare."] The foregoing brackets are Dr Murray's, and indicate, I pre- 
sume, that the example thus enclosed is, possibly, of doubtful application. If this 
be so, there then remains but one parallel example, and this example is nearly a 

ACT II, sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 


To. Doo't knight, He write thee a Challenge : or He 1 27 
deliuer thy indignation to him by word of mouth. 

Mar. Sweet Sir Toby be patient for to night : Since 
the youth of the Counts was to day with my Lady, fhe is 1 30 
much out of quiet. For Monfieur Maluolio, let me alone 
with him : If I do not gull him into an ayword, and make 
him a common recreation, do not thinke I haue witte e- 
nough to lye ftraight in my bed : I know I can do it. 

To. Poflefle vs, poflefle vs, tell vs fomething of him. 135 

Mar. Marrie fir, fometimes he is a kinde of Puritane. 

129. Sweei Sir Toby'\Sweei^ Sir Toby, Rowe et scq. (subs.) a bye-word I., Yi, 
Rowe i. ap. Nichols, Illust, ii, 633. 

130. tht youth] that youth Coll. MS. 135. To.] Sir And. Walker, Dycc ii. 
Counts] Duk^s Rowe, + . Huds. 

131. Monfieur] MounfieurYi. 136. PurUane]Y^, aPuritaneY^^, 

132. an ayword] Yl. a nayword Rowe, + . 

century later. Under the circumstances, (albeit that * challenge him the field' 
sounds idiomatic,) I think an editor would be excused, should he yield to temp- 
tation and add a to before 'the field.* On the other hand, Innes remarks, 
* Considering that Sir Andrew is so drunk as to talk of ** a-hungry " when he means 
"thirsty,*' it is very unnecessary to follow the commentators who desire to correct 
his grammar and read « to the field.** * I have always supposed that Sir Andrew 
thus confused the two appetites because he was Sir Andrew. — Ed. 

132. an ayword] Steevens : This has since been called a byeword, a kind of 
prorerbial reproach. — Collier : 'A]rword * may be the true reading, the meaning 
being * an everlasting word *; * ay * is ever, — Dyce (Remarks y 75): The explanation 
of Steevens is right. Forby, in his Vocabulary of East Anglia, gives ' Nay-word . . . 
A bye- word ; a laughing-stock.* — H ALU well : Nayword is probably a crasis for an 
aye-word ^ a word that may be always used, a proverbial reproach. I doubt whether 
Forby had heard the term used, there being a possibility that this word, with some 
others from Shakespeare, were merely inserted in his MS, with the view of ascertain- 
ing whether he could recover a provincial example of it. The dialectical glossaries 
are unfortunately not always to be implicitly relied upon. — W. A. Wright : In the 
Merry Wives, II, ii, 131, a ' nay- word* is used for a password : ' In any case have 
a nay-word, that you may know one another* s mind, and the boy never need to 
understand anjrthing.* And again, V, ii, 5: <We have a nay- word to know one 
another.* Possibly a < nay- word* may have been a word which had no meaning to 
anyone but the persons using it. . . . It is included by Canon Forman in his C^on- 
an-Sevem Words and Phrases (Eng. Dialect Soc.). [To the ear of the compositor 
'an ajTWord* and a nayword were indistinguishable. ^Ed.] 

135. To.] Walker {Crit, ii, 188) : Surely Sir Toby needed no information 
respecting Malvolio. Rather Sir Andrew, Note, too, Maria* s reply, — ' Marry, sir, 
sometimes,' etc 

135. Postetse Ts] Johnson : That is, inform us, tell us, make us masters of 
the matter. 

136. Puritane] Hales {Contemporary Rev, Jan., 1895, p. 65): The play in 



An. O, if I thought that, Ide beate him like a dogge. 1 37 

To. What for being a Puritan, thy exquifite reafon, 
deere knight. 

An. I haue no exquifite reafon for't,but I haue reafon 140 
good enough. 

Mar. The diuMl a Puritane that hee is, or any thing 
conftantly but a time-pleafer, an affeftionM Afle , that 
cons State without booke,and vtters it by great fwarths. 144 

138. Puritan^'\ Puritan t F^, Rowe 143. affe^Hon'd'\ affected Han. Ran. 
et seq. Var. '85. 

139. knight, '\ knight f Cap. et seq. 144. fwarths] swaths Coll. Wh. i, 
(except Coll. who has Anight!) Dyce ii, Huds. 

which Shakespeare most nearly approaches, — but only approaches, — ^the subject of 
Puritanism is unquestionably Twelfth Night. There is a touch of the Puritan in 
Malvolio, but the merest touch. Fabian's remark, * You know he brought me out 
o' favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here' (II, v, 8), cannot but remind one 
of the Puritan disapproval of popular sports ; and the stiff and ungenial respecta- 
bility, and the acrid manner of the Steward were certainly features vulgarly asso- 
ciated with those unpopular pharisees, who often enough seemed, rightly or wrongly, 
to * the man in the street' to cultivate the art of being disagreeable. — Rolfe (/W/- 
lore^ July> 1898, p. 420) : Malvolio at no time talks like a Puritan, as he would 
naturally have done if he had been one, when he came in to reprove the midnight 
roysterers. It is the noise and disturbance they are making at that unseasonable hour 
for which he reproaches them, not the sin of their drunken revelry, against which a 
Puritan would have inveighed. Falstaff was a better Puritan when he played the 
part of one at The Boar's Head (/ Hen, IV: II, iv, 421) and lectured Prince Hal 
on his profligate habits. 

137. if . . . dogge] W. A. Wright : Sir Andrew anticipates The Shortest 
Way with the Dissenters. — Hales {Contemporary PevieiOy Jan., 1895, p. 65): 
Surely the notion that Puritanism qud Puritanism deserved only kicks and lashes is 
sufficiently exposed and censured by putting it into the mouth of such an arrant fool 
as Sir Andrew Aguecheek, who also informs us he had * as lief be a Brownist as a 
politician.' Even the reckless Sir Toby has misgivings as to its justifiableness. 
However this may be, the quick-witted Maria at once revokes a term which she is 
not slow to see she has hastily misapplied. 

142. The diu'U] When Maria is trying to smooth a rough asseveration into a 
* sarcenet surety,' is it fair, is it courteous to disregard her delicacy, as do all editors, 
and make her blurt out dezfit^ when she uses only an equivalent to the modem and 
innocent * de'il '? — Ed. 

143. affe<5tion'd] W. A. Wright: That is, affected, full of affecUtion. In 
Hamlet^ II, ii, 464, * nor no matter in the phrase that might indite the owner of 
affectation,' is the reading of the folios, while the quartos have * affection.' Compare 
Lov^s Lab. L, V, i, 4 : * Witty without affection '; which is the reading of the first 
folio, changed in the later editions to * affectation.' 

144. cons . . . booke] W. A. Wright : That is, learns by heart, as an actor his 
part. A word of the theatre, as * without book ' that follows. See Rom. <&* Jul, 

ACT II. sc. ui.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 131 

The beft perfwaded of himfelfe : fo cramM(as he thinkes) 145 
with excellencies, that it is his grounds of faith, that all 
that looke on him, loue him : and on that vice in him, will 
my reuenge finde notable caufe to worke. 

To. What wilt thou do ? 

Mar. I will drop in his way fome obfcure Epiftles of 1 50 
loue, wherein by the colour of his beard, the fhape of his 
legge, the manner of his gate, the expreffure of his eye, 
forehead, and comple6lion, he fhall finde himfelfe moft 
feelingly perfonated. I can write very like my Ladie 
your Neece, on a forgotten matter wee can hardly make 155 
diflin£b'on of our hands. 

To. Excellent, I fmell a deuice. 

An. I hau^t in my nofe too. 

To. He fhall thinke by the Letters that thou wilt drop 
that they come from my Neece, and that fhee's in loue 160 
with him. 

Mar. My purpofe is indeed a horfe of that colour. 

An. And your horfe now would make him an Affe. i6j 

145. him/elfi :'\ himself^ Cap. et seq. 159. Letters] letter CoW, MS. 

146. excellencies] excellences Knt, 160. they conie] it comes Cdi\. YA^^. 
Coll. Wh. i. Jhe^s] F^F,, Wh. Dyce, Cam. 

grounds'] Cap. Dyce, Cam. Dtn. Sta. Rife, Hods. Jke is F^ et cet. 
ground Yi et cet. 163. An.] Sir Toby. Tyrwhitt, Har- 

152. gate] gait Johns. ness, Dyce ii, iii, Hads. 

153. compleMm]Y^. complexionY y ^^ horfe now] horse, now. Coll. 
Rowe et seq. 

I, iv, 6: *Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke After the prompter.' In 
Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour it is said in the description of Shift, 
< He waylays the reports of services, and cons them without book.' For ' cons state 
without book ' it has been proposed to read < cons stale wit out of books.' But Mal> 
▼olio's affectation was not wit, but deportment. 

144. swarths] Steevens : A * swarth ' is as much grass or com as a mower cuts 
down at one stroke of his sc3rthe. — Collier : This word occurs again in the same 
sense in Tro. &* Cress. V, v, 25 : * And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge. 
Fall down before him, like the mower's swath'; but there, in the old copies, it is 
spelled 'swath.' — W. A.Wright: More properly jwaM. The spelling 'swarth* 
indicates the pronunciation. 

145. best perswaded of himselfe] That is, having the best opinion of himself. 

146. grounds] Needlessly changed to ground in the Ff. 
152. ezpressure] Compare ' impressure.' II, v, 91. 

162. horse of that colour] Compare, ' lx>yes and women are for the most part, 
cattle of this colour.' — As You Like It, III, ii, 393. 

163. An.] Capell (p. 146) says that words are here put into Sir Andrew's 

132 TWELFE NIGHT [ACT ii, sc. iiL 

Mar. Affe, I doubt not. 

An. O twill be admirable. 165 

Mar. Sport royall I warrant you : I know my Phy- 
ficke will worke with him, I will plant you two, and let 
the Foole make a third, where he (hall finde the Letter : 
obferue his conftru6lion of it: For this night to bed, and 
dreame on the euent : Farewell. Exit 170 

To. Good night Penthijilea. 

An. Before me fhe's a good wench. 

To. She's a beagle true bred,and one that adores me : 
what o'that? 174 

164. AJfe^ /] Ass— I Cap. Ass I 169. his^ this Ff. 

Ran. Coll. 170. Exit] After line 171, Dyce. 

167. with him,"] him him. Rowe ii. 171. Penthifilea] Penthesilea Johns. 
with him. Rowe i et cet. 

mouth *that are something too good for him, but the temptation was strong.' 
Tyrwhitt goes even further. * This conceit,* he observes, • though bad enough, 
shews too quick an apprehension for Sir Andrew. It should be given, I believe, 
to Sir Toby; as well as the next short speech: "O, 'twill be admirable." Sir 
Andrew does not usually give his own judgement on any thing, till he has heard 
that of some other person.' Walker (Crit, ii, 188) proposed the same arrangement, 
not knowing that he had been anticipated by Tyrwhitt. 'This seems,' he says, 
* too witty for Sir Andrew ; I think it belongs to Sir Toby.' Dyck (ed. ii) adopted 
the change. — W. A. Wright : The mistake in assigning it might easily have arisen 
from the first word ' And ' being supposed to indicate the speaker. — Halliwell : 
The objection to this [change], otherwise a probable one, consists in the reply of 
Maria, who evidently intends to be witty at the expense of Sir Andrew, although 
she very possibly alludes at the same time to Malvolio. A practical actress would 
have no difficulty in aiming at both. 

164. Asse, I doubt not] It is strange that Walker, with his noteworthy acute- 
ness, should have had a doubt concerning this pun, as palpable as it is poor. * Is 
there a pun here, he asks {Crit, iii, 85), *^As I doubt not" ?' W. A. Wright calls 
attention to a similar play on < As ' and < Ass ' in Hamlet^ V, ii, 43 : ' And many 
such-like "As'es" of great charge.* 

168. Foole make a third] For some reason or other, this intention of Maria, 
was not carried out ; Fabian takes the place of Feste. Of this change I do not see 
the cause. Fleay would doubtless find in it a proof of patchwork due to the diflferent 
times at which Shakespeare wrote the play. I think it likely that it arose from some 
exigencies in the staging. — Ed. 

171. Penthisilea] As we all know, the Queen of the Amazons, slain by Achilles. 
If Maria was of a diminutive size, and there seem to be several indications of it, 
the incongruity between her figure and the heroic mould of Penthesilea, must have 
been comic enough, to Shakespeare's audience. 

172. Before me] A conversion of < Before God !' into a * pretty oath that is not 

173. beagle true bred] Again an allusion to Maria's small size. Madden 

ACT II, sc. iii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 133 

An. I was adored once too. 175 

To. Let's to bed knight : Thou hadil neede fend for 
more money. 

An. If I cannot recouer your Neece, I am a foule way 

To. Send for money knight, if thou haft her not i'th 180 
end, call me Cut. 

181. C«/] cut Theob. Warb. Cap. Coll. Dyce, Cam. 

(P* 179) : I cannot, therefore, say for certain that the Justice kept, in addition to 
his kennel of running hounds suitable for every chase, a pack of beagles devoted 
exclusively to the hunting of the hare. I know, however, that they were in high 
favour with Gloucestershire sportsmen. The sordid pot-hunter, when he uncouples 
at his game, may care only to < score their backs. And snatch 'em up, as we take 
hares, behind.' (^n/. <Sr* Cleop. IV, vii, 12.) But the true sportsman took delight in 
the music of a pack composed of <the little beagle which may be carried in a 
man's glove, and bred in many countries for delight onely, being of curious scents, 
and passing cunning in their hunting ; for the most part tyring (but seldom killing) 
the prey except at some strange advantage. '(Gervase Markham, Country Content- 
ments,) Thus when Sir Toby said of Maria, 'she is a beagle true-bred,' he meant 
to compliment her keenness and sagacity. 

176. send] See I, v, 299 ; or Abbott, § 349, p. 249. lago's similar advice to 
Roderigo will occur to every one. 

178. recouer] Schmidt {^Lex.) furnishes many examples of this verb with the 
meaning to get, to gain, 

17^9 179- ^ foule way out] Schmidt (Z^x.) defines * out' in the present passage 
as ' on the wrong scent, aiming or going a wrong way-.' — W. A. Wright defines it, 
*oat of my reckoning.' But I agree with Deighton that it means * out of pocket,' 
— a use of *out' still current in this country. — Ed. 

181. Cut] Steevens : So, in A Woman^s a Weathercock, 1612, * and for pleas- 
ure, if I help you not to that as cheap as any man in England, call me cut' 
[IV, ii, p. 69, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley.] Again, in The Two Angry Women of AHng- 
ton, 1599, * I'll meet you there ; and I do not call me Cut' [p. 336. Ibid^ This term 
of contempt, perhaps, signifies only — call me gelding. — M alone : * Call me Cut ' is 
'call me horse.' So, Falstaff in / Hen. IV: II, iv, 2x5, 'I tell thee what, Hal, 
if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.' That this was the meaning of 
this expression is ascertained by a passage in The Two Noble Kinsmen, * He's buy 
me a white cut, forth for to ride.' [Ill, iv, 22.]— RiTSON i^Quip Modest, 8) : This 
expression, having induced a suspicion that curtailing or cutting the tail of either 
horse or dog, implied some degree of infamy or shame, I was glad to meet with a 
passage in Bracton, which may serve to give us a pretty clear idea of the matter. 
' Of the punishment of a ravisher,' says this ancient writer, < according to the laws 
of the Romans, Franks, and English, if he were a knight, his horse, to his disgrace, 
shall have the skin cut off the upper lip, and the tail ought to be cut off close to the 
buttock. So a dog, if he have one with him, greyhound, or other, shall be dis- 
graced in the same manner.' — L. 3, t. 2, c. 28. . . . [This law] leads one to sup- 
pose that, in feudal times the distinction between the horse or dog of a knight 

1 34 TIVELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. iiL 

An. If I do not, neuer truft me, take it how you will. 182 
To. Come, come. He go bume fome Sacke, tis too late 
to go to bed now : Come knight, come knight. Exeunt 184 

and that of a villain, appeared by the tail ; and hence the word * cut ' might be as 
reproachful as the word villain ; the former implying the horse or dog of a clown^ 
the latter the clorwn himself, — Nares : A familiar appellation for a common or 
labouring horse. [This definition Dr Murray (N. E, D.) adopts, and adds :] It is 
doubtful whether the sense is * cut-tail horse' or * gelding.' As 'a term of abuse, 
applied to a man or woman ' the same authority gives the following examples, in 
addition to the present passage : c 1490 H. Medwall, Na/ure, * If thou se hym 
not take hys owne way Call me cut when thou metest me another day.' 1575 
J. Still, Gammer Gurton^s Needle ^ V, ii, * That lying cut is lost, that she is not 
swinged and beaten.' 1605 London Prodigal^ Cij b, 'And I doe not meete him, 
chill giue you leaue to call me cut.' 1820 Scott, Abbot, xix, * ** You shall call me 
cutt if I do go down," said Adam.' — W. A. Wright : A curtal horse was a horse 
whose tail had been docked, as a curtal or curtail dog was one who had been treated 
in a similar manner ; and as from the latter the abbreviation * cur' came to be used 
as a term of contempt, so ' cut ' from * curtal ' was employed in the same way. 
[Fanciful derivations have not been lacking. Croft (p. to) affirmed that * ** cutt" 
was a moss-trooper ; the Cutts were the worst of the Scotch borderers.* J. Weth- 
ERELL (N, ^ Qu, Ilird, vii, 317, 1865) suggests that the phrase may have come 
from * a boyish game still in vogue in Cumberland ' wherein lots were drawn by 
straws 'cut' in different lengths. Hazlitt in a note in his edition of Dodsley's 
Gammer Gurton (p. 216) remarks : < It appears probable to me that the opprobrious 
epithet * Cut' arose from the practice of cutting the hair of convicted thieves.'] 

183. Sacke] Dyce ( Gloss, ) : * It seems to be admitted, on all hands, that the term 
Sack was originally applied to certain growths of Spain. Dr Percy has the credit of 
restoring the original interpretation of the term. In a manuscript account of the dis- 
bursements by the chamberlain of the city of Worcester, for the year 1592, he found 
the ancient mode of spelling to be seek, and thence concluded that **Sack" was 
merely a corruption of sec, sig^nifying a dry wine. Minshew renders the term 7nn sec ; 
and Cotgrave gives the same translation. The most satisfactory evidence, however, 
in support of this opinion is furnished by the French version of a proclamation for 
regulating the prices of wines, in 1633, where the expression vins sees corresfwnds 
with the word "sacks" in the original copy (Rymer's Faederay Tome viii. Part iv, 
p. 46). It may also be remarked that the term sec is still used as a substantive by the 
French, to denote a Spanish wine ( ** on dit aussi quelquefois absolument du see, pour 
dire, du vin d'Espagne." — Diet, de Trevoux)\ and that the dry wine of Xerez is dis- 
tinguished at the place of its growth by the name of vino seco. These several author- 
ities, then, appear to warrant the inference that **Sack" was a dry Spanish wine. 
But, on the other hand, numerous instances occur in which it is mentioned in con- 
junction with wines of the sweet class.' [To reconcile this discrepancy a learned 
examination here follows of the character ascribed to Sack by the few writers who 
have described it, with a side reference to the general custom of the English to add 
sugar to their wines, which is generally considered a proof that the wines thus treated 
were dry.] * The conclusion at which we thus arrive is so far satisfactory, as it proves 
that the wines formerly known under the name of Sacksy though they may, upon 
the whole, have been inferior, yet differed in no essential quality from those with 

ACT II, sc. iv.] OR, WHA T YOU WILL 1 35 

Scena Quarta. 

Enter Duke, Viola, Curio y and others. 2 

DuXjtiwt, me fome Mufick;Now good morow frends. 
Now good Ce/arioy but that peece of fong, 4 

I. Scena...] Scene V. Pope, + . F,. friends — Johns, friends; F^F^ 

The Palace. Rowe. et cet. 

3. frends,"] Coll. Wh. Cam. friends 

which we are at present supplied by the same countries which originally produced 
them, and which are still held in such deserved estimation. They probably first came 
into favour in consequence of their possessing greater strength and durability, and 
being more free from acidity than the white wines of France and Germany ; and owed 
their distinctive appellation to that sub-astringent taste which characterises all wines 
prepared with gypsum.' — Henderson, Hist, of Ancient and Modem IVines, pp. 298- 

I. Scena Quarta] F. A. Marshall : With this scene, in [Irving' s] acting- 
edition, Act III. commences. 

3, 4. Now good . . . Now good] The awkwardness of this repetition seems to 
have been perceived, with but one exception, by no editor ; at least no attempt has 
been made greatly to vary the punctuation of the Folio. The exception is John- 
son, of whose text no notice, that I can find, has ever been taken. He punctuates 
thus : * Give me some music now.-— Good morrow friends — Now, good Cesario,* 
etc This is, certainly, an improvement ; it avoids the beginning of two consecutive 
sentences with * Now,' and it makes the salutation to the Musicians and others a 
courteous side- remark. It leads the way, moreover, to an arrangement (which 
occurred to me, but wherein I have been anticipated. Pereant qui ante nos, etc. ) 
recorded in the Cambridge Edition (ed. ii), by Mr Blair, who has suggested 
the following punctuation : * Give me some music. [ To Viola.] Now, — [Enter Musi- 
cians] good morrow friends, — Now, good Cesario,' etc. This is better than Dr John- 
son's; it avoids the ending of the Duke's first sentence with a weak *now,' and 
makes the second * Now ' a mere repetition of the first, and not the beginning of a 
new address. — Ed. 

4. Cesario] Fleay (Sh. Manual^ p. 228) believes that this play was written at 
two different times, and the first indication of it is the present passage, ' where 
Viola was evidently intended to be the singer.' 'Compare, 'he continues, * ** for I 
can sing. And speak to him in many sorts of music," I, ii, 62. This was from the 
first draft; but in the revised play Curio makes the strange answer (in prose, as all, 
or nearly all, the later work is in this drama), '*He is not here that should sing 
it," and the Duke says, "Who was it?" forgetting the singer he had heard the 
night before. He afterwards points out the special character of the song (lines 
5 1-56) to Cesario, who had also heard it, and who had just been asked to sing it ; 
all this, I think, could not have been written at one time.' — Weiss (p. 196) : The 
Duke has forgotten that Feste and not Cesario was the singer. Fleay overlooks this 
touch of nature. But the Duke is mooning about in his sentimental fashion, and 

136 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. iv. 

That old and Anticke fong we heard laft night ; 5 

Me thought it did releeue my paflion much, 

More then light ayres, and recoUefted termes 7 

5. Anticke\ Antick F^F^, Rowe. an- 6. Me tkouglU] Methought Rowe. 

tiqiu Pope. 

vaguely recollects that Cesario was presented to him as one that could sing and 
* speak to him in many sorts of music' He had done so, no doubt, so that the 
mistake was natural to the distraught mind of the Duke who seems to allude to it 
when he says immediately to Cesario, <If ever thou shalt love,' etc., lines 18-23. 
His obliviousness is indeed so profound that he blunders in dismissing Feste when 
the song is over, saying to him, ' Give me now leave to leave thee.' This, so far 
from being an imperfect reading, is a perfect touch of his abstruse mood. [See notes 
on line 77 below.] It amuses Feste, who says, aside, *Now the melancholy god 
protect thee,' etc. Every line and word of this beautiful scene is unalterably well 
placed. — Elze (p. 179) : It seems evident that according to the poet's intention two 
singers were required for the performance of this play : one to sing in Orsino's pal- 
ace (the performer of Viola) and another to sing in Lady Olivia's house (the 
Clown). As, however, at some time or other, the Lord Chamberlain's men could 
boast of only a single singer, and that one the Clown, they gave him access to the 
Duke's palace and made him do the singing of both parts. [See note on Devrient's 
Acting Version ^ line 59 below.] 

5. old and Anticke] R. G. White (ed. i) : This is not mere pleonasm; 
< antique ' carried, and, perhaps we may say, still carries, the idea of quaintness 
added to antiquity. — W. A. Wright : * Antique ' has the accent on the first syllable 
as always in Shakespeare. 

6. passion] W. A. Wright : That is, suffering, grief ; used of strong emotions 
of any kind. Compare Tempest^ I, ii, 392 : < Allaying both their fury and my 
passion With its sweet air.' — Innes : That is, fever of his love, for which Orsino 
regards music as a sort of medicine, as in the opening lines of the play. [The 
' passion ' of Ferdinand weeping for his father is not the ' passion ' from which 
Orsino suffers. It must be remembered that Orsino was enduring the < pangs of dis- 
prized love,' one of the calamities of life which Hamlet enumerates as justifying a 
quietus with a bare bodkin. Wherefore, I think that Wright's definition, * suffering' 
(but not * grief) is the best. — Ed.], 

7. rccollccfled] Warburton : That is, studied.— Johnson : I rather think that 
•recollected' signifies, more nearly to its primitive sense, recalled^ repeated^ and 
alludes to the practice of composers, who often prolong the song by repetitions. 
[Though I cannot accept this definition, it is only fair to suggest that Dr Johnson 
might have adduced, as an illustration, Thomas Morley's music, written about 1600, 
for the Song in As You Like It : * It was a lover and his lass,' where each stanza 
thus ends : * In the spring time, the spring time, In spring time, the only pretty ring 
time. When birds do sing, hey ding a ding-ding, hey ding a ding-ding, hey ding a 
ding-ding, Sweet lovers love the spring. In spring time. In spring time, the only 
pretty ring time. When birds do sing, hey ding a ding-ding, hey ding a ding-ding, 
hey ding a ding-ding, sweet lovers love the spring.' — Ed.] — Knight: *Term* 
forms no part of the technical language of music. Its plural may possibly be 
intended by Shakespeare to signify those passages called phrases ; but it is more 
likely that the word was originally written tunes, which would render the expression 

ACT II, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 137 

Of thefe mod briske and giddy-paced times. 8 

Come, but one verfe. 

Cur. He is not heere (fo pleafe your Lordihippe) that 10 

fhould fmg it ? 

Du. Who was it ? 

Cur. Fejle the lefter my Lord, a foole that the Ladie 
Oliuiaes Father tooke much delight in . He is about the 
houfe. 1 5 

Du. Seeke him out, and play the tune the while. 

Mujtcke playes. 
Come hither Boy, if euer thou fhalt loue 18 

8. giddy-paced '\ giddy-pated Han. 16. Seeke] Go, seek Cap. Ktly. 

giddy-pa^d Var. '85. giddy-paM 17. [Exit Curio. Pope ct seq. 

Dyce. 18. [To Viola. Coll. ii (MS). 

13. Feftc] Fefl> Ktly. louel hve^ Rowe. 

14. Oliuiaes] Olivia's FjF^. 

intelligible. In not very clear manuscript * termes * might easily have been mistaken 
by the compositor for tunes. We agree with Dr Johnson's recalled, if by * recalled * 
is to be understood known by heart, — by memory, — R. G. White (ed. i) : * Terms* 
does not, I think, mean musical phrases, nor is it a misprint for tunes. A song con- 
sists of both music and words ; and this song, which was * old and plain,' suited the 
lover's mood by reason of the simple sweetness of its air and the homely directness 
of its phrase, more than the * light airs ' (gay, trivial music) to which the < recol- 
lected terms ' (carefully culled expressions) in the songs of those < most brisk and 
giddy-paced times ' were set. * Recollected terms ' is a phrase which might well be 
applied to the words of a song written under the influence of Euphues and his 
England, — The Cowden-Clarkes : The poet probably means what musicians 
call 'phrases of repetition,' or 'passages of imitation'; where rapid successions 
of notes, and florid ornamentation, produce the eflect of liveliness which the Duke's 
love-melancholy shrinks from, and contrast with the simplicity he so much prefers. 
— Schmidt (Z^•x.) : Equivalent to picked, refined? or trivial? — W. A. Wright: 
That is, phrases gathered with pains, not spontaneous. Knight proposed tunes, but 
we have already had the tunes in the ' airs,' and the *■ terms ' must therefore be the 
words set to music So 'festival terms,' in Much Ado, V, ii, 41, are 'holiday 
phrases.' Compare Lov^s Lab. L. V, ii, 406 : *Taff*eta phrases, silken terms pre- 
cise.' The sense here given is confirmed by a passage in Pericles, II, i, 54 : ' How 
liom the finny subject of the sea These fishers tell the infirmities of men ; And from 
their watery empire recollect All that may men approve or men detect !' [The most 
concise definition is given by Warburton, viz : studied. This is virtually the same 
as both White's and Wright's: 'studied expressions' are ' carefully culled expres- 
sions,' and they are also 'phrases gathered with pains, not spontaneous.' Innes 
says that 'recollected terms' 'apparently conveys the same sort of idea as "light 
airs." ' I cannot at all agree with him when he adds, in reference to Wright's 
interpretation, that it 'might be true if it did not appear wholly inappropriate.' 
On the contrary, it is, I think, exactly in the trending of the true explanation. 



[ACT II, SC. iv. 

In the fweet paiigs of it, remember me : 
For fuch as I am, all true Louers are, 
Vnflaid and skittifh in all motions elfe, 
Saue in the conftant image of the creature 
That is belouM. How doft thou like this tune ? 

Vio. It giues a very eccho to the feate 
Where loue is thron'd. 

Du. Thou doft fpeake mafterly. 
My life vpon't, yong though thou art, thine eye 
Hath ftaid vpon fome fauour that it loues : 
Hath it not boy ? 

Vio, A little, by your fauour. 

Du. What kinde of woman ift ? 

Uio, Of your comple<5lion. 

Du. She is not worth thee then. What yeares ifaith? 

Vio. About your yeeres my Lord. 

Du. Too old by heauen : Let ftill the woman take 
An elder then her felfe, fo weares fhe to him; 





19. fw^.] meP F,Fj. me; F^. 
21. motions'] notions Theob. conj. 

24, 25. Mnemonic lines, Warb. 
24. /<?] from Warb. 

30. fauour, "] favour ^ F^. 

31. iff] at FjF^. 

32. compUi!lion'\ complexion F.F^. 
35-37. Mnemonic, Warb. 

21. motions] That is, emotions ; frequently used with especial reference to love. 
Thus, * teach me . . . with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.* — 
Mid, N. D. I, i. 204. Again, * A maiden ... Of spirit so still and quiet, that her 
motion Blush'd at her self.' — Othello^ I, iii, 113. 

24. to the seate] Warburton : We should read, *from the seat,* 1. e, it reaches 
the throne of love and reverberates thence. — Heath (p. 190) : The tune could not 
properly be said to be in the heart, and therefore could not give an echo from it. 
The common reading, therefore, is certainly right. It gives the heart a very echo ; 
that is. It is so consonant to the emotions of the heart that they echo it back again. 
[The emotion issuing from the heart, is caught up and interpreted by the music which 
returns it as an echo. — Ed.] 

2$. thron'd] See I, i, 43. 

30. by your fauour] Johnson: The word 'favour* is ambiguously used. — 
Steevens : * Favour,* in the preceding speech, signifies countenance. [There is 
also a play upon the word 'by,' which, as Abbott (§ 145, p. 97) points out, may 
be here taken in its original meaning, near, ] 

30, etc.] To this passage Collier finds an indistinct parallel in GV Jnganni, 
See Appendixy Source of the Plot, 

36. An elder then her selfe] Malone (Life^ Var. 1821, ii, 112): Anne 
Hathaway whom our poet married in June or July, 1582, was then in her twenty- 
sixth year, that is, seven years and a half older than her husband ; a disproportion 

ACT II, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 139 

[35, 36. Let still the woman take An elder then her selfe] 
of age, which seldom fails, at a subsequent period of life, to be productive of 
unbappiness, and which . . . perhaps, suggested the judicious precept [in the present 
lines]. — De Quincey (p. 46) : Shakespeare, looking back on this part of his youth- 
ful history from his maturest years, breathes forth pathetic counsels against the errors 
into which his own experience had been ensnared. The disparity of years bet\^'een 
himself and his wife he notices in a beautiful scene in the Twelfth Night. . . . 
These counsels were uttered nearly twenty years after the event in his own life to 
which they probably look back ; for this play is supposed to have been written in 
Shakespeare's thirty-eighth year [?]. And we may read an earnestness in pressing 
the point as to the inverted disparity of years, which indicates pretty clearly an 
appeal to the lessons of his personal experience. — Knight (p. 189 : [This passage] 
has been supposed to bear upon the domestic history of Shakspere. We believe 
that such conjectures are in general founded on a misapprehension of the dramatic 
spirit in which he worked ; and that such notions, especially as that he was himself 
jealous, because he has so truly depicted the passion of jealousy, — or that he had 
himself felt the bitter pang of filial irreverence, because he had written [certain 
passages in Lear\ are altogether idle and worthless. The details, however, of 
Shakspere' s private life are so few, and the facts and traditions which have come 
down to us require such careful examination, that we need not be surprised that the 
language which he has held to be characteristic of the persons and incidents of his 
dramas should have been deemed, with more or less ingenuity, to be characteristic 
of himself, his actions, and his circumstances. Amongst the least overstrained of 
these applications is the [present passage]. . . . Upon the general principle which 
we have stated, — that is, the wonderful subjection of his conception of what was 
individually true to what was universally true, — he would, we think, have rejected 
whatever was peculiar to his own experience, if it had been emphatically recom- 
mended to his adoption through the medium of his self-consciousness. [Knight 
then proceeds to the more immediate purpose of this 'Postscript,' — an extremely 
valuable contribution to those who are interested in the Life of Shakespeare, — 
which is, to prove that the poet's domestic life was not unhappy owing to the dis- 
parity in years between himself and his wife, and that the bequest to her of his * second- 
best bed ' betokened no neglect, nor lack of affection for her, inasmuch as she had 
her right of dower in his freehold property, wherein the bulk of his large estate con- 
sisted.] — Halliwell : The suggestion that the dialogue was intended to allude in 
any way to the poet's domestic unbappiness, not only destroys the independence of 
one of his best scenes, but is in itself exceedingly improbable. — Collier (ed. ii. 
Life, i, 64) : Whether these lines did or did not originate in the author's reflections 
upon his own marriage, they are so applicable to his own case, that it seems impos- 
sible he should have written them without recalling the circumstances attending his 
hasty union, and the disparity of years between himself and his wife. Such, we 
know, was the confirmed opinion of Coleridge, expressed on two distinct occasions in 
his Lectures, and such, we think, will be the conclusion at which most readers will 
arrive : * I cannot hesitate in believing,' observed Coleridge in 1811-12, 'that in this 
passage from Twelfth Night, Shakespeare meant to give a caution, arising out of his 
own experience ; and, but for the fact of the disproportion in point of years between 
himself and his wife, I doubt much whetner the dialogue between Viola and the 
Duke would have received this turn.' — Ibid. (ed. ii, vol. ii, 638) : It was an opinion 
confidently stated by Coleridge in his Lectures in 18 18, that this present passage had 

I40 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. iv. 

So fwayes fhe leuell in her husbands heart : 37 

For boy, howeuer we do praife our felues, 

Our fancies are more giddie and vnfirme, 

More longing, wauering, fooner loft and wome, 40 

Then womens are. 

40. wome\ F,Fj. won Han. Ran. Wh. i, Coll. ii, iii (MS), Dyce ii, iii, Ktly, 
Huds. worn Y ^ et cet. 

a direct application to the circumstances of Shakespeare's marriage with Anne Hath- 
away. . . . Coleridge took the opportunity of enlarging eloquently on the manner in 
which young poets have frequently connected themselves with women of very ordi- 
nary personal and mental attractions, the imagination suppl3ring all deficiencies, 
clothing the object of affection with grace and beauty, and furnishing her with every 
accomplishment. — R. G. White (Life^ i, xxxiv) : Who can believe that the well- 
known counsel in [these present lines] was not a stifled cry of anguish from [Shake- 
speare's] tormented, over-burdened soul, though he had left his torment and his 
burden so far behind him ? It is impossible that he could have written it without 
thinking of his own experience ; the more, that the seeming lad to whom it is 
addressed is about his years, and the man who utters it about Anne Hathaway* s at 
the time when they were married.— Dyck (ed. ii, Life^ i, 33) : It is unfair to con- 
clude, as Malone and others have done, from certain passages in our author's plays, — 
each of which passages more or less grows out of the incidents of the play, — that he 
had cause to complain of domestic unhappiness : indeed, without taking into account 
the tradition of his regular visits to Stratford, we have strong presumptive evidence 
to the contrary in the fact, that the wife of his youth was the companion of his latest 
years, when he had raised himself to opulence and to the position of a gentleman. 
— W. A. Wright : Shakespeare was seldom autobiographical, and did not wear his 
heart upon his sleeve. — Innes : Shakespeare was not in the habit of making his 
characters mouthpieces ; the Duke's opinion must, in this case as in others, be taken 
for what it is worth, as his own view and not necessarily that of the poet — Lee 
(p. 25) : Although it is dangerous to read into Shakespeare's dramatic utterances 
allusions to his personal experience, the emphasis with which he insists that a 
woman should take in marriage an * elder than herself,' and that prenuptial intimacy 
is productive of 'barren hate, sour-eyed disdain, and discord,' suggest a personal 
interpretation. [Not only do I not believe that Shakespeare was here referring to 
his own experience, but I do not believe that Orsino's assertion itself is true. The 
record of marriages where the woman is the elder will prove, I think, that, as a 
rule, such unions, founded as they are, not on the fleeting attractions of youth, which 
is * a stuff will not endure,' but on the abiding elements of intellectual congeniality, 
have been unusually happy. — Ed.] 

39-41. Our . . . are] Innes : This admission hints that Orsino is becoming alive 
to the fact that his constitution has more to do with his fitfulness than the ardour of 
his passion. 

40. lost and wome] Johnson : Though *■ lost and worn ' may mean ' lost and 
worn wi/,' yet * lost and won ' being, I think, better, these two words coming usually 
and naturally together, and the alteration being slight, I would so read in this place 
with Hanmer. [And yet he did not. — Ed.] — Capell (p. 146) : Won carries strong 
marks of genuineness ; it is coupl'd often with Most' in these writings, and seems 

ACT II, sc. iv.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 141 

Uio. I thinke it well my Lord. 42 

Du. Then let thy Loue be yonger then thy felfe, 
Or thy affeftion cannot hold the bent : 

For women are as Rofes, whofe faire flowre 45 

Being once difplaid, doth fall that verie howre. 

Vio. And fo they are : alas, that they are fo : 
To die, euen when they to perfefHon grow. 

Enter Curio & Clowne. 

Du. O fellow come, the fong we had laft night : 50 

Marke it Cefario, it is old and plaine ; 
The Spinfters and the Knitters in the Sun, 
And the free maides that weaue their thred with bones, 53 

42. well my] well^ my Rowe ct seq. Theob. + , Sta. 

46. that'] the F^ Rowe i. 52. and the] and Vcmor & Hood's 

47. fo -'] so, Rowe i. so^ Rowe ii. Rep. 

sOt — Dyce. 52-56. Mnemonic, Warb. 

50. night:] night, Rowe, Pope, Han. 53. the free] the fair Grey, thrifty 

Coll. Dyce, Cam. Ktly. night.— J. Addis, Jr. (N. 6r* Qu. Ill, xi, 252). 

wanted to sort with * giddy' and 'longing,' as Most' does with the other two. — 
Malone : The text is undoubtedly right, and * worn ' means consumed, worn out. 
So Lord Surrey, describing the Spring, says : * Winter is worn, that was the flowers' 
bale.' [Description of Spring,] Again, 2 Hen, VI: II, iv, 69 : * These few days' 
wonder will be quickly worn.' Again, in IVint, Tale. V, i, 142 : 'and but inflrm- 
ity Which waits upon worn times.' — Walker (Crit, iii, 85) : It seems wonderful 
that any one should have hesitated between this and the true reading won, — 
Lbttsom {Footnote to Walker) : So in the Mer, of Ven, I, iii, 50, the Folio has 
' well-wome thrift,' and, if it had not been for the Quartos, the corruption might 
have deformed modem texts. [ W. A. Wright is, I think, a little too emphatic when 
he says that won * would have no meaning here ' ; does not the word * wavering ' 
imply now lost now won ? but he is altogether right in retaining ' worn ' ; even 
apart from its appropriate meaning of * lost and consumed,' the very triteness of the 
phrase < lost and won ' is against its adoption. Here, if anywhere, the well-worn 
Duriar lectio preferenda est should prevail. — Ed.] 

44. bent] Murray (N, E, D. s. v. Bent, 9) : Extent to which a bow may be 
bent, or a spring wound up, degree of tension ; hence degree of endurance, capacity 
for taking in or receiving; limit of capacity, etc. [See Much Ado. II, iii, 214; 
IV, i, 194, of this ed.] 

48. euen when] Abbott (§ 38, p. 42) : This means here, *just when.' 

53. free maides] Johnson : That is, perhaps, vacant, unengaged, easy in mind. 
— Knight: Upon the passage in Milton's V Allegro. — 'But come, thou goddess, 
fair and free. In heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne,' — ^Warton remarks that *in the 
metrical romances these two words, thus paired together, are a common epithet for 
a lady,' as in Syr Eglamour. *The erles daughter fair and free.' *But in these 
cases,' observes W. A. Wright, * "free" denotes one of gentle or noble birth. 
See I, ▼, 258. Thus in the Romance of Sir Perceval of Galles ( Thornton Romances. 
Camden Soc.) 521, we find " Percyvelle the free"; and in Robert of Gloultester's 

142 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. iv. 

Do vfe to chaunt it : it is filly footh, 

And dallies with the innocence of loue, 55 

Like the old age. 

Clo. Are you ready Sir ? 

Duke. I prethee fing. Mujicke. 

The Song. 59 

54. ftUyfoothy'\ sUfy^ sooth^ Wh. i. Pope, Han. Ay; pr'y thee [ox priikte) 

55. dallies] tallies Warb. Theob. ii et seq. 

58. I prethee] Ff, Rowe. Ipr^y thee 59. The Song.] Song. Rowe et seq. 

Chronicle (ed. Hearae), p. 420, Henry I. is described as '*Of fa3rrost fourme and 
maners and mest gentyl and fre." * Wright, therefore, defines 'free* in the 
present instance, as < free from care, careless, happy,' and therein agrees with Dr 
Johnson ; among the many meanings which can be properly given to the word, this 
appears to suit the present context best. — Halliwell quotes the following, fTx>m 
Miss Baker's Northamptonshire Glossary: Lace-songs^ jingling rhymes, sung by 
young girls while engaged at their lace-pillows. The movement of the bobbins is 
timed by the modulation of the tune, which excites them to regularity and cheerful- 
ness ; and it is a pleasing picture, in passing through a rural village, to see them, in 
warm sunny weather, seated outside their cottage doors, or seeking the shade of a 
neighbouring tree ; where in cheerful groups they unite in singing their rude and 
simple rhymes. 

53. bones] W. A. Wright: In Beaumont & Fletcher's Scornful Lady^ V, ii, 
among the accomplishments of a good housewife, it is said, ' She cuts cambric at a 
thread, weaves bone lace, and quilts balls.' — Murray (N. E. D,)z Bone-lace is 
usually of linen thread, made by knitting upon a pattern marked by pins, with bob> 
bins originally made of bone. 

54. silly sooth] Johnson : That is, it is plain, simple truth. 

55. dallies] Steevens : That is, play, trifle. So in III, i, 16. 

56. the old age] Johnson : That is, the ages past, the times of simplicity. — 
Hunter (i, 403^^ : Dr Johnson's interpretation is confirmed by what goes before, 
<it is old and plain.' The poets have always had their golden age of innocence 
and truth. In Sonnet ^ cxxvii, we have, < In the old age black was not counted 
fair.' [Compare Orlando's speech to Adam ; * how well in thee appears The constant 
service of the antique world,' etc., II, iii, 58. — Ed.] 

59. The Song] Capell (p. 146) : This song is undoubtedly ancient, but is not 
met with as some are of Sir Toby's. — Staunton; On comparing the Duke's 
description of that * antique song ' he heard last night, with this ballad, the differ- 
ence is so striking, as to beget suspicion that the latter was an interpolation, and 
not the original song intended by the poet. It appears, indeed, to have been the 
privilege of the singer formerly, whenever the business of the scene required a song, 
to introduce one of his own choice ; hence we frequently find in our old dramas, 
instead of the words of a ballad, merely a stage direction, * A Song,' or • He sings.' 
— Innes : Nevertheless, a song of the woeful fate of a swain who dies of love may 
very fitly be described as 'dallying with the innocence of love,' especially by the 
Duke, who would rather like to believe that he is dying of love himself. — Hutson 
(p. 489) : The true significance of the great dramatist's putting this wailing dirge 
into the Clown's mouth seems to me to be that he wishes to indicate his conception 

ACT II, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 143 

Come away y come away deaths 60 

And in fad cyprejfe let me be laide . 

Fye away ^ fie away breathy 

I amjlaine by a f aire cruell maide : 63 

62. Fye away, fie] F,. Fie away, fie F^F^. Fly away ^ fly Rowe et seq. 

of the character as that of one whose culture and native gifts have been both over- 
borne by some imperious and ineradicable foibles, aided by the force of circum- 
stances. Capacity for thought, still manifested in metaphysical tendencies of expres- 
sion, . . . and capacity for sentiment, still manifested in his musical ability, and 
the power with which he evidently rendered this song, indicate versatility of mind 
and character. To this we must add the histrionic capacity afterwards shown when 
he deceives Malvolio by feigned voice and style into mistaking him for the Parson. 
This versatility might have borne better fruit than the life of a great lady's jester 
but for the large developement of certain lower tastes and passions, which one can- 
not help noting in Feste, and also the opportune opening for him in the new pro- 
fession, when his lively pranks shut him off from the clerical career for which he 
seems to have been originally destined. Something in his personal appearance, too, 
operated against his entering that profession, and fitted him peculiarly for the cap- 
and-bells and the motley garb. [See IV, ii, 8. In the Acting Version of Eduard 
and Otto Devrient this Song is sung by Viola. In the Introduction to the play, 
the Editors, who were themselves eminent actors, express the belief that in this dis- 
tribution of parts they were, in reality, restoring Shakespeare's original intention. 
That, in the Folio, this Song is sung by Feste, they attribute to the changes which 
were introduced by the company at The Globe, after Shakespeare had left the stage, 
^-changes which may have been due at first to some temporary expediency and 
became afterward permanent At the very outset of the play we are led to suppose 
that Viola's chief attraction is her singing ; and yet here at the supreme moment 
when her singing is to have its most powerful effect, she is silent, and the power to 
stir the Duke's heart to the inmost is given to the Clown. The whole sentiment 
of the Song points to Viola as the Singer ; in it she pours out her soul. ' Is it to 
be imagined,' they ask, ' that Shakespeare should have allowed our expectations of 
Viola's singing to be aroused only to have them fulfilled by the Clown?' Further- 
more, they say that < if we examine the text which sets forth the substitution of the 
Qown for Viola, we cannot for a moment doubt that we are dealing with an inser- 
tion by a Stage manager, who has had to meet a sudden and unexpected misadvent- 
ure, — possibly an attack of hoarseness in Viola, and Feste, ever ready with his 
songs, must help her out But why this substitution was permanent, and why Viola 
was not reinstated, and why the impromptu jokes of the Clown were retained in the 
Folio are questions as hard to answer as why these noteworthy inconsistencies have 
not been hitherto noticed.' The Editors then go on to say that on the stage, in 
many performances at Carlsruhe, the change from Feste to Viola has been extremely 
cflTective. — Conrad (Preuss. Jahrb. July, 1887, p. 17) suggests that when Shake- 
speare first wrote this play, the boy, who took the part of Viola, had a fresh young 
voice, but when, at a later date, he enlarged the play the boy had grown up, and the 
only good tenor in the company was the Clown. — Ed.] 

61. csrpresse] Malone : In the books of our author's age the thin transparent 
lawn called cyprusy which was formerly used for scarfs and hatbands at funerals, was. 

144 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. ir. 

Myjhrowd of white Jiuck all with Ew^ prepare it. 

My part of death no one fo true did fhare it. 65 

Not a flower^ not a flower fweete 

On my blacke coffiny let there be Jlrewne : 

Not a friend, not a friend greet 

My poor e corpes, where my bones fhail be throwne : 

A thoufand thoufandfiglies tofaue Jlay me o where 70 

Sad true louer neuerfind mygraue yto weepe there. 

Du. There's for thy paines. 

Clo. No paines fir, I take pleafure in finging fir. 

Du. He pay thy pleafure then. 74 

64. Ew] Ff. Yew Rowc. 70. d] O Ff. Om. Pope, Han. 

64,65. O prepare it... did (hare it] 71. Sad] Om. Pope, +,Var. '73. 

Separate lines, Pope et seq. true louer] true-lcve Cap. Var. 

64. O prepare] Prepare Pope, Han. '78, '85, Dyce ii, iii, Huds. 

66. flower fwecte]^^I?w^,jT</^<r/, Anon. neuer] neer Han. Mai. Steer, 

ap. Cam. Var. '03, '13, Sta. 

70,71. lay me d where... to weepe 72. [Giving money. Coll. ii (MS. ) 
there] Separate lines. Pope et seq. 

I believe, constantly spelt cypress. So, in the Wint, Tale^ IV, iv, 251 : 'Cypresse 
blacke as ere was Crow,' where undoubtedly cyprus was meant. [See note, ad he. 
in this ed.] So, again in the play before us, IH, i, 123, *a Cipresse, not a bosome 
Hides my heart.' It is from the context alone, therefore, that we can ascertain 
whether cyprus or cypress was intended. Mr Warton has suggested, in his edition 
of Milton's Poemsy that the meaning here is, — < Let me be laid in a shroud made 
of Cyprus^ not in a coffin made of cypress wood.' But in a subsequent line of this 
song the shroud (like that of Polonius), we find, is white. There was, indeed, white 
Cyprus as well as black ; but the epithet ' sad ' is inconsistent with white, and, 
therefore, I suppose the wood to have been here meant. Coffins being frequendy 
made of cypress wood (perhaps in consequence of cyprus being used at funerals) 
the epithet * sad ' is here employed with strict propriety. [Malone then quotes from 
Speed an incident which occurred at the • solemne funerals ' of Robert de Verc. 
Stow, Speed's predecessor, gives the same incident as follows : '[King Richard II.] 
caused the Coffin of Cipres, wherein his body being embalmed lay, to be opened, 
that he might behold his face, & touch him with his fingers.' — Annales^ p. 503, ed. 
1600.] — Knight : It is difficult, and perhaps unnecessary, to decide the question 
[whether a coffin or a shroud be here meant ;] the sentiment is the' same, whichever 
meaning we receive. — W. A. Wright : It is, either a coffin of cypress wood or on 
a bier strewn with branches or garlands of cypress. 

65. My part . . . share it] Johnson : Though < death ' is a * part ' in which 
every one acts his * share,' yet of all these actors no one is ' so true ' as L 

70. 6] This '0,' with a circumflex, Walker (Crit. i, 105) notes as frequently 
used (though, of course, not here) as the in the forms 0' my truths o* my life^ etc 

ACT II, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 145 

Clo. Trudy fir, and pleafure will be paide one time, or 75 


Dm. Giue me now leaue , to leaue thee. 

Clo. Now the melancholly God proteft thee, and the 
Tailor make thy doublet of changeable Taffata, for thy 
minde is a very Opall . I would haue men of fuch conftan- 80 

76. another\ otktr Rowe, + , Var. '73, 77, 78. Giue tne,.,Now\ Give me now 
'78, '85, Ran. leave, Clo. To leave thee ! — Now Mac- 

77. Giue.,. thee'\ I give thee now,,, me, donald, ap. Cam. 
Harness, Coll. iii (MS.) 78. Clo.] Duk. F,. 

75, 76. pleasure will be paide, etc.] Deighton : Sooner or later pleasure (t. e. 
indulgence) will be requited by pain, will have to ]>ay the penalty of pain. 

77. Giue me now leaue, etc.] Harness: There are here two errors of the 
press : the omission of the preposition [jfV] /, and a transposition of < me ' and 
< thee.' According to the old reading, the Duke's [speech] is not only contrary to 
the rank and situation of the characters but to the circumstances which immediately 
follow. [Harness's text reads : ' I give thee now leave to leave me'; which is also 
the reading of Collier's MS.] — Haluwell, after quoting Harness's note, observes : 
The Duke is scarcely solicitous to preserve the language belonging to the dignity of 
his position in his conversation with the Clown. He is here speaking either jocu- 
larly or ironically, or both. — Dyce (ed. ii, asks, concerning the present text) Is not 
this a courteous form of dismissal ? — W. A. Wright answers that it is, and adds : 
When Henry says to Worcester (/ Hen, IV: I, iii, 20), * You have good leave to 
leave us,' it amounts to a command to withdraw. [See Weiss' s note on line 4 
above. ] 

79. changeable Tafifata] Halliwell : * — as our changeable silk turned to ye 
Sunne hath many colours, and turned backe the contrary, so wit shippeth [< sharp- 
eth,' ap, Halliwell ; qu. shapeth? — Ed.] it self to euery conceit being constant in 
nothing but inconstancie.' — Lily, Euphties and his England, [l5^> P« 320, ed. 
Arber.] — W. A. Wright : Taffeta was originally any kind of plain silk, but it now 
denotes many other varieties. The word is said to be Persian in origin, from 
tdftah, woven, which is the participle of tA/tan, to intertwine. It appears in 
French as taffetas, in Italian as taffeto, and in Spanish as tafetan. In Chaucer 
(C. T, 442) the Doctor of Physic's robe was, < Lyned with taffata and with sendal.' 
The earliest example given by Littr6 is of the 15th century : < Une piece de taffetas 
changeant de Levant.' 

80. Opall] < Optallio is called Oppalus also, and is a stone distinguished with 
colors of diners precious stones, as Isid, saith. Therein is the fine colour of ye 
Carbuncle, the shining purple of the Ametistus,, the bright greene colour of Smar- 
agduSf and all the colours shine therein, with a manner diuersitie, and hath the name 
of the Countrie. This stone breedeth onely in Inde, and is deemed to haue as many 
▼ertnes, as hiewes and colours. Of this Optallius, it is said in Lapidario, that this 
stone Optallius keepeth and saueth his eyen that beareth it, cleere and sharp and 
without griefe, and dimmeth other mens eyen that be about, with a maner dowde, 
and smiteth them with a maner blindnesse, that is called Amentia, so that they may 
not see neither take heede what is done before their eyen. Therefore it is said, that 


146 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. iv. 

cie put to Sea, that their bufineffe might be euery thing, 81 

and their intent euerie where, for that's it, that alwayes 
makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell. Exit 

Du. Let all the reft giue place : Once more Ce/arioy 
Get thee to yond fame foueraigne crueltie : 85 

Tell her my loue, more noble then the world 
Prizes not quantitie of dirtie lands. 
The parts that fortune hath beftow'd vpon her : 
Tell her I hold as giddily as Fortune : 

But 'tis that miracle, and Queene of lems 90 

That nature prankes her in, attrafb my foule. 

82. that's it, tAat] that's it that '78, '85. yond* CoH. 
Rowe. 87, 88. lands y ... hery'\ lands, ... her, 

84. Scene VI. Pope, + . Ff, Rowe. lands ;,.. her. Pope ct seq. 
place .'"^ place, [Exeunt. Johns. 90. Ietns'\ Jems F^F^, Rowe. gems 

[Exeunt Cur. and Att. Cap. Pope. 

85. yondl^ yon* Cap. Steev. Var. *73, 

it is the most sure patron of theeues.' — Batman vppon Bartholome, 1582, Lib. zvi» 
cap. 73, p. 264. — Ed. 

82. euerie where] Warburton : Both the preservation of the antithesis and the 
recovery of the sense, require we should read, — ' and their intent no where.' Because 
a man who suffers himself to run with every wind, and so makes his business every 
where, cannot be said to have any intent ; for that word signifies a determination of 
the mind to something. Besides, the conclusion of ' making a good vojrage ' of 
nothing directs to this emendation. — Heath (p. 191) : An intent every where is 
much the same as an intent no where, as it hath no one particular place more in 
view than another. — M. Mason (p. Il6) : We cannot accuse a man of inconstancy 
who has no intents at all, though we may the man whose intents are every where ; 
that is, are continually varying. [Just as the incomparable Feste had detected 
Maria's scheme to capture Sir Toby, (I, v, 27,) so here he shows with what exact- 
ness he had read the Duke's character. — Ed.] 

86. world] That is, the social world. 

87. dirtie lands] W. A. Wright : Like Osric, in Hamlet, Olivia was • spacious 
in the possession of dirt.' 

89. giddily] That is, carelessly, indifferently. 

91. prankes her in] Warburton : What is 'that miracle and queen of gems,' 
we are not told in this reading. Besides, what is meant by. < nature pranking her in 
a miracle '? We should read, * That nature pranks, her mind* — f. e. what * attracts 
my soul * is not her * fortune,' but her mind, * that miracle and queen of gems that 
nature pranks,' /. e. sets out, adorns. — Johnson : The * miracle and queen of gems' 
is her beaut}', which the commentator might have found without so emphatical an 
enquiry. As to her mind, he that should be captious would say, that though it may 
be formed by nature, it must be * pranked ' by education. Shakespeare does not say 
that nature pranks her in a miracle, but in the miracle of gems, that is, in a gem 
miraculously beautiful. 

91. attracts] For the omission of the relative, see I, v, 99. 

ACT II. sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 147 

Vio, But if (he cannot loue you fir. 92 

Du. It cannot be fo anfwer'd. 

Vio, Sooth but you mud. 
Say that fome Lady, as perhappes there is, 95 

Hath for your loue as great a pang of heart 
As you haue for Oliuia : you cannot loue her: 
You tel her fo : Muft (he not then be anfwer'd ? 

Du. There is no womans fides 
Can bide the beating of fo ftrong a paflion, 100 

As loue doth giue my heart : no womans heart 
So bigge, to hold fo much, they lacke retention. 102 

92. fir,'\ F(, Rowe. Sir, — Thcob. + . / Han. et seq. 

Jir/ Pope et seq. 94. Soo/A} ^ Sooth Cap. Var. Steev. 

93. //]Ff, Rowe, Pope,Theob. Coll. i. 100. bide\ abide Y^^, 

93. It cannot] Malone : I am not sure that [Hanmer's change * I cannot'] is 
necessary. The Duke may mean, < my suit cannot,' etc. — Coluer (ed. i) : That 
is, my love cannot be so answered. Viola's reply means, that if your love cannot be 
so answered, you must be content with the answer. — Dyce : The Folio is proved 
to be wrong by the next speech ; * Sooth, but you must . . . must she not, then, be 
answer* d?' — Collier (ed. ii) : We have doubts whether the old text should be 
altered here. . . . We follow [Hanmer's] example with some hesitation. [Hanmer 
is probably right. — Ed.] 

99. There is . • . sides] Abbott (§ 335) : When the subject is as yet future, 
and, as it were, unsettled, the third person singular might be regarded as the normal 
inflection. Such passages are very conunon, particularly in the case of * There is.' 
— Skeat (N. 6r* Qu. IXth, v, 360, May, 1900) thus excellently formulates the usage 
founded on the practice of old authors : — When a verb occurs as the second word in 
a sentence, and is preceded by such words as it, that, what, where, here, and the 
like, such a verb is usually employed in the singular number, irrespective of the 
number of the substantive which follows it. Examples of such usage are common 
from the ninth century onwards. Hence a ballad may begin, ' It was a lover and 
his lass,' or we may beg^n a sentence with ' There is tears,' or < Here is pansies.' 
This is the right explanation of the famous line in The Tempest : * What cares these 
roarers for the name of king ?' If I remember rightly, the form < cares ' has been 
explained as ' a Northern plural.' But what had a Warwickshire man to do with * a 
Northern plural '? 

102. to hold] For the omission of as, see II, ii, 11. 

102. retention] W. A. Wright : That is, the power of retaining. See Sonnet 
czxii, 9 : 'That poor retention could not so much hold.' — The Cowden-Clarkes : 
The Duke one moment owns his sex's fickleness, the next maintains its superior 
strength of passion ; in one speech, proclaims women's greater constancy ; in 
another, accuses them of incapacity for steady attachment. — Innes : The Duke, — 
very properly and entirely in character, — makes two flatly contradictory statements 
about women in general in the course of a single scene, — consequently there are 
plenty of people who will quote one opinion or the other, and say we have not 
Orsino's but Shakespeare's authority for taking that view. What Shakespeare 

148 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. iv. 

Alas, their loue may be callM appetite, 103 

No motion of the Liuer, but the Pallat, 

That fuffer furfet, cloyment, and reuolt, 105 

But mine is all as hungry as the Sea, 

And can digeft as much, make no compare 

Betweene that loue a woman can beare me. 

And that I owe Oliuia, 

Uio, I but I know. I lO 

Du. What doft thou knowe ? 

103. 104. appetite,... Pallat,'] F,. ap- lOJt dige/f\ di/geftY^. 

petite :...Pa/IatfFjF^,Rowe,-\-. appe- mucky fnake"] muck; make 

titCy — ...palatCy — Cap. ct seq. (subs. ) Rowe et seq. 

105. fuffer^ suffers Rowe, + , Ran. no. know.'] know — Rowe ct seq* 

Coll. D^ce ii, iii, Huds. Dtn. (subs.) 

thought on the subject we may infer from the characters of the women he drew 
more accurately than from the various opinions expressed by his dramcUis persona. 
103-105. their . . . That] For the construction, see I, v, 287, — if the antecedent 
of • That* be * their,* — which is doubtful. 

104. motion of the Liuer] That is, no emotion of the liver. That the liver is 
the seat of love and valour has been the belief from time immemorial. The follow- 
ing from Bartholomseus, who flourished about 1360, is noteworthy merely as showing 
the prevalence of the belief in the Middle Ages : ' the Ijruer is the chiefe foundation 
of kindly vertue, and gretest helper of the first digestion in the stomacke . . . and 
sendeth feeding to all the members, and exciteth loue or bodelye lust, and receiueth 
diuers passions.* — Batman vppon BartkolomCy 1582, Lib. V, cap. 39, p. 57. 

105. That suffer surfet] Malone: *Sufler* is governed by women^ implied 
under the words * their love.* The love of women, etc., who sufler. — Dyce (ed. ii) : 
Malone attempts in vain to defend < suffer.' — Deighton : The line ' No motion . . . 
Pallat * is parenthetical. The fact that the Duke immediately afterwards contrasts 
his appetite as never suffering surfeit, etc., with that of women seems to show that 
*That* refers to appetite, and consequently that we must have the singular verb, 
suffers. The final s might be easily omitted before * surfeit.* — Innes : * That ' refers 
back to * their,* not to palate. [In a case like this, where the ear can only with 
difficulty detect a difference between • suffer surfeit * and * suffers surfeit,' it is hardly 
safe to be dogmatic. The terms: 'surfeit, cloyment* and, especially, 'revolt,' 
certainly seem more applicable to 'appetite' than to women. — Ed.] 

105. cloyment] W. A. Wright: Apparently a word of Shakespeare's own 

106. hungry as the Sea] Steevens : So, in Coriolanusy V, iii, 58 : < Then let 
the pebbles on the hungry beach Fillip the stars.* 

109. I owe Oliuia] I suppose the general pronunciation of * Olivia ' is with a 
long Oy which is shortened in the abbreviation, Olive. Is it fanciful to infer, from 
the present phrase, that Shakespeare's pronunciation was the same in both cases, and 
that he pronounced ' Olivia * with a short O ? Otherwise it is difficult to suppose 
that his ear would not have detected the cacophony of the iterated long in ' owe 
Olivia.*— Ed. 

ACT II. sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 149 

Uio» Too well what loue women to men may owe : 112 

In faith they are as true of hearty as we. 
My Father had a daughter lou'd a man 

As it might be perhaps, were I a woman 115 

I fhould your Lordfliip. 

Du. And what's her hiftory f 

Vto. A blanke my Lord : (he neuer told her loue, 118 

112. may inue] owe F^F^. do awe 1 1 8-1 23. Mnemonic lines, Pope, 

Rowe i. Warb. 

117. And what' s\What'sYo^,Yi9Si, 

114. lou'd] For a similar omission of the relative, see I, t, 99. 

118, etc. A blanke, etc.] Hazutt (p. 259) : The great and secret charm of 
Twelfth Night is the character of Viola. Much as we like catches and cakes and 
ale, there is something we like better. We have a friendship for Sir Toby ; we 
patronise Sir Andrew ; we have an understanding with the Clown, a sneaking kind- 
ness for Maria and her rogueries ; we feel a regard for Malvolio, and S3rmpathise 
with his gravity, his smiles, his cross-garters, his yellow-stockings and his imprison- 
ment in the stocks. [?] But there is something that excites in us a stronger feeling 
than all this, — it is Viola's confession of her love. What we so much admire here 
is not the image of Patience on a monument, which has been generally quoted, but 
the lines before and after it. ' They give a very echo to the seat where love is 
throned.' How long ago it is since we first learned to repeat them ; and still, still 
they vibrate on the heart, like the sounds which the passing wind draws from the 
trembling strings of a harp left on some desert shore ! — Coleridge (p. 121) : After 
the first line (of which the last five words should be spoken with, and drop down in, 
a deep sigh), the actress ought to make a pause ; and then start afresh, from the 
activity of thought, bom of suppressed feelings, and which thought had accumulated 
during the brief interval, as vital heat under the skin during a dip in cold water. 
— Charles Lamb (ii, 366) : Those who have only seen Mrs Jordan within the last 
ten or fifteen years can have no adequate notion of her performance of such parts 
as Ophelia ; Helena in AlVs Well that Ends Well; and Viola. ... Her joyous 
parts, in which her memory now chiefly lives, in her youth were outdone by her 
plaintive ones. There is no giving an account of how she delivered the disguised 
story of her love for Orsino. It was no set speech, that she had foreseen, so as to 
weave it into a harmonious period, line necessarily following line, to make up the 
music, — yet I have heard it so spoken, or rather ready not without its grace and 
beauty, — but, when she had declared her sister's history to bfe a * blank,' and that 
she ' never told her love,' there was a pause, as if the story had ended, — and then 
the image of the ' worm in the bud,' came up as a new suggestion, — and the height- 
ened image of < Patience ' still followed after that, as by some growing (and not 
mechanical) process, thought springing up after thought, I would almost say, as 
they were watered by her tears. So in those fine lines, * Write loyal cantons of con- 
temned love,' etc. There was no preparation made in the foregoing image for that 
which was to follow. She used no rhetoric in her passion ; or it was Nature's own 
rhetoric, most legitimate then, when it seemed altogether without rule or law. [This 
description of Mrs Jordan's acting agrees so fully with Coleridge's assertion of the 

I so TWELFE NIGHT [act n, sc. iv. 

But let concealment like a worme i'th budde 

Feede on her damaske cheeke : (he pinM in thought^ 120 

And with a greene and yellow melanchoUy, 

She fate hke Patience on a Monument, 

Smiling at greefe. Was not this loue indeede ? 123 

122. fate like\ sat, like Knt, Wh. Ktly, Huds. Dtn. 

way in which the present passage should be acted, that I am inclined to think 
that Coleridge must have been, quite unconsciously, drawing on his memory of 
this charming actress's {>erfoTmance. He had the same opportunities that Lamb 
had of seeing Mrs Jordan, who, as Boaden says, Mong continued to delight the 
town in Viola, which she acted for the first time' in November, 1785, and she 
retired from the stage only a few years before Coleridge's Notes were written, if they 
were written, as I think, in 1818. — Ed.] 

119, 120. let concealment . . . Feede, etc.] With this expression Henry (ii, 
553) compares, * At Regina . . . Vulnus alit venis et caeco carpitur igni.* — Aeneid, 
IV, 2 ; and strangely enough asserts that Virgil is more correct than Shakespeare, 
inasmuch as it is * not concealment, but the love which is concealed, which feeds on 
the cheek.' This form of metonymy is too common for criticism. Henry overlooked 
the first clause in the line, where there is a metonymy as marked as Viola's: ' Vulnus 
alit venis ' ; Dido does not foster the wound with her veins, but with the blood in her 
veins. — Ed. 

120. in thought] This has been variously defined as melancholy y griefs sorrow^ 
sorrowful rejlecliony sadness, etc. I think, however, that the best and simplest 
paraphrase is given by Deighton : * in brooding over her love.' 

122, 123. Patience . . . greefe] Theobald (ed. i) suggests that it is not impos- 
sible that Shakespeare might have * borrowed ' this * very fine image ' from Chaucer's 
Assembly of Fowls, 242, * Dame Pacience, sittynge ther I fonde. With face pale, 
upon an hille of sonde.' Compare, also, Pericles, V, i, 138 : • yet ihou dost look 
Like Patience gazing on kings' graves, and smiling Extremity out of act.' [Much 
of the discussion on this passage, (and it is so voluminous that Boswell transposed 
it, in the Variorum of 1 82 1, to the end of the play,) was set abroach by Malone, 
who could not comprehend how Patience could smile cU grief, unless grief 
were actually before her face as an object to smile at. It never occurred to him 
that she who smiled, was not Patience but Viola's sister; he evidently supposed 
that all Viola's sister had to do was to sit. In order, therefore, that Patience's 
smiles should not be wasted he projected a second monumental figure. Grief; 
and took much comfort in a quotation from Rich. III., which, as he said, 
'countenanced' his idea, — Mike dumb statuas, or breathing stones, Gaz'd each on 
•other, and look'd deadly pale.' HI, vii, 25. If there were only one figure, he 
argues, we cannot suppose that ^ at grief meant ^ in grief,' because *no statuary 
could form a countenance on which smiles and grief should be at once expressed.' 
Dr Percy afforded so much relief by suggesting that * grief meant grievance, that 
Malone finally acknowledged that this interpretation might be the true one, but to 
the last would not acknowledge that his objection to at, and to the impossibility of 
a sculptor's making a face expressing two contrary emotions, was without foundation. 
Steevens professed himself * unwilling to suppose that a monumental image of 
Patience was ever confronted by an emblematical figure of Grief, on purpose that one 

ACT II, sc. iv.] OR, WHA T YOU WILL 1 5 1 

We men may fay more, fweare more, but indeed 

Our fliewes are more then will : for ftill we proue 125 

Much in our vowes, but little in our loue. 

Dti, But di'de thy fifter of her loue my Boy ? 

Vio. I am all the daughters of my Fathers houfe, 
And all the brothers too : and yet I know not. 
Sir, (hall I to this Lady? 130 

Du, I that's the Theame, 
To her in hade : giue her this lewell : fay, 
My loue can giue no place, bide no denay. exeunt 133 

124. more^ lmt\ more: but Cap. et 129. too: and,,, not.'] (00 — and.,. not — 

seq. (subs.) Rowe, + . too; — and .„ not ; — Cap. 

128. I am] Pm Pope, Theob. Warb. too ; — and.,. not. — Knt. 
Johns. Huds. 133. My] Thy F,. 

128, 129. I am, ..all the brothers too : bide] bidY^^ Rowe. 
and] Sh^ S...I am all the sons, but Han. 

might sit and smile at the other ; because such a representation might be considered as 
a satire on human insensibility ' ; and concludes his note with the remark, * that to 
** smile at grief " is as justifiable an expression as to ** rejoice at prosperity," or repine 
at ill fortune.* Boswell's note, one of the best he ever wrote, is : — * The meaning 
appears to me to be this : ** While she was smiling at grief, or in the midst of her 
grief, her placid resignation made her look like patience on a monument." The 
monumental figure, I apprehend, is no more said to have smiled at grief than to 
have pined in thought, or to have been of a green or yellow hue.' This just inter- 
pretation of the passage has been accepted by all editors, I believe, since the year 
it was published. Knight's punctuation, I think, is the best. Among modem 
critics. Hunter (i, 404) alone accepts Malone's two monumental figures. W. A. 
Wright remarks with quiet humour : * Shakespeare may very well have seen some 
SQch emblematical figure on a funeral monument, or he may even have imagined it, 
as he was not wanting in imagination.' * Grief,' here, is suffering. — Ed.] 

123. Was not this loue indeede ?] Gervinus (i, 549) : As she utters these 
words, overcome by tears, she breaks off her speech and leaves. [*Undgleick darauf 
bricht sie von Thrdnen ueberwUltigt ihre Rede ab und geht.' — I repeat the original 
that there can be no question of the fact that Gervinus believed that the young 
man, Cesario, bursts into tears and cries before the Duke. — Ed.] 

129. and yet I know not] She is thinking of Sebastian, and of the possibility 
of his having been saved. 

133. denay] Steevens : That is, denial. To denay is an antiquated verb some- 
times used by Holinshed. 5k), p. 620 : * the cardinall, then being bishop of Win- 
chester, tooke vpon him the state of cardinall, which was naied and denaied him.' 
[Henrie the sixt, ed. 1587.] Again, in Warner's Albions England, 1602, 2 booke, 
chap. 10 : * The old- wife . . . thus did say : The thing (friend Battus) you demaund 
not gladly I denay.' [p. 46. ] — Dyce ( Gloss.) : * Of milde denaies, of tender scomes,' 
etc. Fairfax's trans, of Tasso's Gerusalemme, B. xvi. st. 25. 

152 TWELFE NIGHT [act n. sc. v. 

Scena Quinta. 

Enter Sir Toby^ Sir Andrew ^ and Fabian. 2 

To, Come thy wayes Signior Fabian, 
Fab. Nay He come : if I loofe a fcruple of this fport, 
let me be boyPd to death with MelanchoUy. 5 

To. Wouldft thou not be glad to haue the niggard- 
ly Rafcally (heepe-biter, come by fome notable fhame? ^ 

I. Scene...] Scene VII. Pope, + . 4. loo/e\ lofe Ft 

Olivia's Garden. Pope. 

3. wayes] See Abbott (| 25, p. 35) for adverbs ending in s formed from the 
possessive inflection of nouns. Compare * other gates/ V, i, 206. — W. A. Wright : 
« Ways' is here the old genitive, used adverbially. — Innes demurs; 'but surely,' 
he says, * *< thy " makes this a very difficult explanation. May it not be the plural, 
and object of "come "?' 

3. Fabian] See II, iii, 168. Innes : Fabian is described as ' a servant of 
Olivia,* but he treats the two knights as if he were very much on an equality with 
them. [It is Rowe who gives us the Dramatis Personse, and who first desig- 
nated Fabian as a ' servant.' Fabian uniformly addresses the two knights with the 
respectful *you' of an inferior. — Ed.] 

5. boyl'd] Grey (i, 229) calls attention to the fact that there was only one 
crime for which the penalty, under English laws, was boiling to death, and that 
was, poisoning. This law was enacted in Henry VIII. 's time, and under it two 
cases occurred where the culprits were so executed. It was re|>ealed by the first of 
Edward VI. Grey thinks it probable that 'boiled' should be here broiled^ not, 
however, on legal, but physiological, grounds, because, as he asserts, * melancholy* 
arises from 'a black bile, which lies broiling upon the stomach.' 

7. sheepe-biter] Rann, Halliwell, Dyce: That is, a thief. Halliwell 
quotes from Taylor, the Water Poet, IVorkSy 1630 : * Although it be not found in 
ancient writers I finde all mutton-eaters are sheepe-biters. And in some places I 
have heard and seene, That currish sheepe-biters have hanged beene.' — R. G. 
White (ed. i) : Unless this is Sir Toby's phrase for cur^ or mtUton-eater^ — ^more 
probably the former, — I am at a loss to explain it. — Schmidt (Z^jc.) : Evidently 
equivalent to a morose, surly, and malicious fellow. — R. G. White (Studies^ 
etc., p. 310) : < Sheep-biter' does not mean 'a morose, surly, malicious fellow,' nor 
anything like that. If Dr Schmidt had said it meant a thief, he would have had 
the support of good ' authority ' (whatever that may be). It was indeed applied to 
thieves, as in this line : < How like a sheep-biting rogue, taken i' the manner !* — 
Fletcher, Rule a IVi/f, etc. , V, iv, and so it was to malicious persons, as in the follow- 
ing line : * His hate like a sheep-biter fleering aside.' Tusser, Envious and NaughtU 
Neighbour y p. 112, ed. 1 610. But it was so applied merely because it was a gen- 
eral term of reproach. It means merely * mutton-eater.' This I suggested in my 
first edition, and afterwards I found the following reference to the phrase by Addi- 
son : ' Mutton . . . was formerly observed to be the food rather of men of nice and 

ACT II. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 153 

Fa. I would exult man : you know he brought me out 8 

o'fauour with my Lady, about a Beare-baiting heere. 

To, To anger him wee'l haue the Beare againe, and 10 

we will foole him blacke and blew, fhall we not fir An- 

An. And we do not, it is pittie of our liues. 

Enter Maria. 
To. Heere comes the little villaine : How now my 1 5 

9. i^fauour] Coll. Wh. Dyce, Cam. ii, + . 
Sta. 0/ favour Ff et cet 14. Enter...] After villaitu^ line 15, 

13. And'\ An Pope et seq. Dyce, Cam. 
ii u] *tis Rowe i. ifs Rowe 

delicate appetites than those of strong and robust constitution. For which reason 
eren to this day we use the word Sheep-biter as a term of reproach, as we do Beef- 
eater in a respectful, honourable sense.' — Toiler ^ No. 148. Addison's testimony 
(and he mentions that he had consulted antiquaries — in 1709 — on the subject of 
his paper) leaves no doubt as to the meaning of the compound, and as to its use as 
a general term of reproach. But I venture a dissent from his inference in regard to 
delicate appetites. Mutton two and three hundred years ago was looked upon as 
very inferior food to venison and to beef ; and ' mutton-eater,' coarsened into < sheep- 
biter,* corresponded to the modem 'tripe-eater.* — W. A. Wright: A term of 
reproach, taken from a vicious dog. It usually denotes a niggard. So, in Dekker, 
Th£ Honest Whore {WorJb, ii, 121) : *A poor man has but one Ewe, and this 
Grandee Sheepe-biter leaues whole Flockes of fat Weathers (whom he may knocke 
downe), to deuoure this. '[Second Part, II, i, p. 162, Middleton's Works, ed. 
Dyce. It may be doubted that Addison is to be followed as to the use, in his own time, 
of words current a hundred years earlier, in Elizabethan times. Among the lower 
classes, where such terms of reproach mostly originate, it is hardly conceivable 
that an eater of mutton should have been held in disgrace. Given the word, < sheep- 
biter,' and any mind of a humorous turn could have detected, as did Taylor, the Water 
Poet, that it is equivalent to mutton-eater ; but this does not make it a term of reproach. 
There can be little doubt, from the foregoing quotations from Fletcher (supplied by 
White himself ) and from Dekker that the word was originally applied to a dog that 
bit or worried sheep,— a dog that has once indulged in this practice, becomes so 
worthless and incorrigible that it has to be incontinently killed ('hanged,' says 
Taylor, the Water Poet, supra) f as everyone knows who has had any experience in 
the keeping of sheep. A third pertinent quotation is in Nashe's Pierce Penniiesse^ 
1592 : < What curre will not bawle, & be ready to flye on a mans face, when he is 
set on by his master, who, if hee bee not by to encourage him, he casts his taile 
betwixt his legges, & steales away like a sheepe byter.' p. 35, ed. Grosart. — Ed.] 

9. Beare-baiting] Every one will recall Macaulay's remark that the Puritans 
objected to bear-baiting not because it gave pain to the bear but because it gave 
pleasure to the spectators. — Ed. 

13. pittie of our liues] Compare, * If you thinke I come hither as a Lyon, it 
were pitty of my life.' — Mid. N. D. Ill, i, 41. 

15. Uttle] C. C. Clarke (Gentieman*s Maga, 1873, p. 538) : With his usual 

1 54 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. v. 

Mettle of India f 1 6 

i6. MeUle\ Nettle Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. Var. Ran. Steev. Var. Sing. Sta. Ktly. 
metal Mai. Var. '21 et cet. 

felicity, harmony, and consummate taste, the poet has made Maria a little woman, 
and he constantly keeps that fact fresh and green in the mind of the reader. A 
woman of Amazonian stature indulging in such pranks would be too horrible 
an infliction ; no one short of Theseus himself, — that queller of Amazons, — could 
have fitly coped with her. As she is, Maria is perfection, — in her small-sized way. 
16. Mettle of India] Steevens (who adopted in his text, Nettle of F,) : The 
poet must here mean a zoophyte, called the Urtica Marina, abounding in the Indian 
seas. * Quae tacta totius corporis pruritum quendam excitat, unde nomen urtica est 
sortita.' — Wolfgangi Franzii Hist, Animal, , 1665, p. 620. Perhaps the same plant 
is alluded to by Greene in his Carde of Fancie, 1608 : < the flower of India pleas- 
ant to be seene, but who so smelleth to it, feeleth present smart' [p. 46, ed. 
Grosart.] Again, in his Mamillia, 1593 : * Consider the hearbe of India is of pleas- 
sant smell, but who so commeth to it feeleth present smart '[p. 265, ed. Grosart.] 

* Mettle * of the First Folio may mean, my girl of gold, my precious girl, — M. 
Mason : * Nettle of India,' which Steevens has ingeniously explained, certainly bet- 
ter corresponds with Sir Toby's description of Maria, — *here comes the little vil- 
lain.' The nettle of India is the plant that produces what is called cow-itch, a 
substance only used for the purpose of tormenting, by its itching quality. — Malone 
(who, in 1790, was the first to restore the present text): So, in / Hen, IV: II, iv, 
307 : * Lads, boys, hearts of gold,' etc.; again lb. Ill, i, 169 : * — and as bountiful 
As mines of India'; again in Hen, VIII : I, i, 18 : * To-day the French, All clin- 
quant, all in gold, like heathen gods. Shone down the English ; and tomorrow they 
Made Britain India ; every man that stood, Show'd like a mine.' So Lyly, Euphues 
and his England, 1 580 : * I see that India bringeth golde, but England breedeth 
goodnesse.* [p. 311, ed. Arber.] Again, in IVily Beguiled, 1606: * Come, my heart 
of gold, let's have a dance at* the making up of this match. '[p. 254, ed. Hazlitt- 
Dodsley.] The person there addressed, as in Twelfth Night, is a woman. The 
two words [metal and nettle] are very frequently confounded in the early editions of 
our author's plays. — Knight : If Shakespeare had wished to call Maria a stinging 
nettle, he would have been satisfied with naming the indigenous plant, — as he has 
been \n Hich, II, and Hen. V., — without going to the Indian seas. — Collier: 

* Metal of India' is merely a paraphrase for gold. The supposition that there was 
some allusion to the ' nettle of India ' is a mere fancy. Robert Greene, who has 
been vainly quoted on the point, would never have called a nettle of India a 

* flower of India.' — Hunter (i, 406) : Neither phrase has been justified by exhibit- 
ing it as used elsewhere by Shakespeare, or by any other writers. So far then the 
two expressions stand on equal grounds. To me nettle ap|>ears by far the better 
reading. Maria was about to sting Mai vol io, to be a nettle to him. [According to 
Dyce, it was with Lettsom a matter of doubt whether Nettle o{ the Second Folio were 
not a mere misprint for * Mettle.' I share this doubt to the full. Shakespeare did 
not need to go to India for nettles, nor is there any proof that the Urtica Marina 
was ever called the Urtica Indica or Urtica Marina Indica, or even • nettle of 
India'; nor does it follow that the * flower' or *the hearbe of India' is a nettle. 
To suppK)se that Sir Toby salutes Maria as a nettle, because she was about to tor- 
ment Malvolio, is to endow the bibulous Knight with the gift of prophecy. Sir Toby 

ACTii, sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 155 

Mar, Get ye all three into the box tree : Maluolufs 17 

comming downe this walke, he has beene yonder i'the 
Sunne pra<5liring behauiour to his own fhadow this halfe 
houre : obferue him for the loue of Mockerie : for I know 20 

this Letter wil make a contemplatiue Ideot of him. Clofe 
in the name of ieafting, lye thou there : for heere comes 
the Trowt, that muft be caught with tickling. Exit 

Enter Maluolio, 

MaL 'Tis but Fortune, all is fortune. Maria once 25 

told me (he did affefl me, and I haue heard her felf come 
thus neere, that fliould fliee fancie, it fliould bee one of 
my completion. Befides (he vfes me with a more ex- 
alted refpeft, then any one elfe that followes her. What 
fhould I thinke on't ? 30 

To, Heere's an ouer-weening rogue. 

VJ, bcx tree\ box-tree F^. (after there ^ line 22) Han. Cap. 

18. has\ ha' 5 F F^. 24. Scene VIII. Pope, + . 

21,22. Clofein\ C/ose, in Kowe, 28. compU^ion'\Y ^, complexionY ^ ^, 

22. ieafting, fye] Ff, Rowe, Pope. 31, etc. Until M.'s exit, all the 
Jesting/ lye Theob. + . jesting. [Men speeches of Toby, And. and Fab. are 
hide themselves] Cap. marked as aside, by Cap. 

23. Exit.] [Throws down a letter, weening'\ weaning Rowe, Pope, 
and exit] Theob. [Drops a letter] Theob. Warb. 

cannot know Maria's errand before she discloses it. There may be truth in wine, 
but not prophesying. Steevens's concluding sentence shows that he clearly under- 
stood the meaning of the text of the First Folio. — Ed.] 

21. contemplatiue] Abbott (p. 497) refers to As You Like //, II, vii, 33 : 
* That Fooles should be so deepe contemplatiue.' 

23. tickling] Steevens: Thus, Cogan, in his Haven of Healthy I595t 'This 
fish of nature loveth flatterie ; for, being in the water, it will suffer it selfe to be 
nibbed and clawed, and so be taken.' — Hallfwell: * Grope or tickle^ a kind of 
fishing, by putting one's hand into the water-holes where fish lye, and tickling them 
about the gills ; by which means they'll become so quiet, that a man may take them 
in his hand, and cast them to land, or if large fish, he may thrust his fingers into 
their gills and bring them out.' — Diet. Rust. Catching trout in this manner is an 
old and deadly mode of poaching, but it can only be practised in very dry, sultry 
weather, and when the water is exceedingly low ; then the country urchins, early 
instructed in this destructive practice, wade into the pools, grope for, and easily take 
lai^e trout by tickling them. < Whoop : fut, how he tickles yon trout under the 
gillesl you shall see him take him by and by, with groping flattery.' — Marston's 
Antonio and Mellida. [II, p. 23, ed. Halliwell.] 'This is the tamest trout I ever 
tickled.' — Beaumont & Fletcher, The Humorous Lieutenant. [Ill, v.] Hence the 
term trout came to be used as applied to a foolish person, easily entrapped. 

26. she] This refers, of course, to Olivia. 

27. fancie] That is, love. — W. A. Wright : It is used again absolutely in Tro. <Sr* 
Cress. V, ii, 165 : * Never did young man fancy With so eternal and so fix' d a soul.' 

156 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc v. 

Fa. Oh peace : Contemplation makes a rare Turkey 32 

Cocke of him, how he iets vnder his aduanc'd plumes. 

And. Slight I could fo beate the Rogue. 

To, Peace I fay. 35 

MaL To be Count Maluolio. 

To. Ah Rogue. 

An. PiftoU him, piftoll him. 

To. Peace, peace. 

Mai. There is example for't : The Lady of the Stra- 40 

chy^ married the yeoman of the wardrobe. 

33. aduanc'd'l advatCd FJF^. Cam. Sta. Rife, Dtn. limes, /ke TracAy 

34. S/i^A/] 'Slife Rowe, + . 'Slight Warb. the strachy W2iT, '78 et cet the 
FjF^etcet. duchy Bailey (ii, 238), the Tragedy 

Roguf.'\ rogue: — Cap. et seq. Bulloch (no), the County Kinnear 

(subs.) (p. 168). Malfi Elze (p. 180). the 

36. Maluolio.] Malvolioy — Theob. Stracci Lloyd ap. Cam. the Starosty 

Warb. et seq. (subs.) Erfurdt (Archiv/, d. S. d. n. Sp. 1862, 

40, 41. the Stracby] Ff, Johns. Cap. xxzi, 92). 
Var. '73, Knt, Coll. Hal. Wh. Dyce, 

33. iets] Steevens : That is, to strut, to agitate the body by a proud motion. 
So, in Arden of Feversham^ 1592 : < Is now become the steward of his hoiise And 
brauely iets it in his silken gowne.' [p. 2, ed. BuUen.] Again, in Chapman's 
Bussy d*Ambois^ 1607 : * They foolish-proud To jet in others plumes so haughtely.' 
[p. 15, ed. 1873.] — Halliwell: Palsgrave (1530) has, Ijettewiih facyon and 
countenaunce to set forthe my selfe, je braggue, I pray you, se how this felowe 
jetteth : je vous prie^ aduiset comment ce compaignon braggue. [Hereupon follow 
nine or ten quotations from the dramatists and elsewhere, none, however, so good as 
that furnished by Shakespeare himself in Cym. Ill, iii, 5 : * The gates of monarchs 
Are archM so high that giants may jet through And keep their impious turbans on.'] 

34. Slight] Halliwell: A contracted form of the petty oath, by this light. 
*This morning, being the 9th of January, 1633, the kinge was pleas* d to call mee 
into his withdrawinge chamber to the windowe, wher he went over all that I had 
crosste in Davenants play-booke, and allowing oi faith and slight to bee assevera* 
tions only, and no oathes, markt them to stande, and some other few things, but in 
the greater part allowed of my reformations. This was done upon a complaint of 
Mr. Endymion Porters in December. The kinge is pleasd to take faith, death, 
slight, for asseverations, and no oaths, to which I doe humbly submit as my masters 
judgment ; but under favour conceive them to be oaths, and enter them here, to 
declare my opinion and submission.' — Herbert's Diary, [Sir Andrew uses this oath 
again at III, ii, 14 ; and another weak one : * Odd's lifelings,' at V, i, 195. These 
were the kind of oaths that Rosalind considered safe : * By my troth, and in good 
earnest, and so God mend mee, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous.' — 
As You Like It, IV, i, X79.— Ed.] 

35. 39. W. A. Wright : These speeches are more appropriate to Fabian than 
Sir Toby. 

40, 41. Lady of the Strachy, etc.] Hanmer : It is not easy to conjecture what 

ACT II, sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 157 

[40, 41. The Lady of the Strachy,] 
* Stiachy * should be ; perhaps Stratarch^ which (as well as Strategue) signifies a 
General of an Army, a Commander-in-chief. [In Hanmer's First Edition the fore- 
going note is signed < Sir T. H.'; in his Second Edition, it is signed ' Warburton.' 
— Ed.] Warburton wrote to Theobald (Nichols, lllmt, ii, 642) that <Strachy* 
should be * Satrape^ 1. e, governor.' In his subsequent edition, we find : We should 
read Trachy^ i.e. Thrace; for so the old English writers called it. Mandeville 
says : * As Trachye and Macedoigne, of which Alisandre was kynge.' It was com- 
mon to use the article the before names of places ; and this was no improper instance, 
where the scene was in Illyria. [Ashton's admirable edition of Maundeville is a 
reprint of East's reprint of Pynson's edition, 1568. On p. 15, the foregoing sen- 
tence quoted by Warburton reads thus : * that is to say . . . Tracy & Macedony, of 
which Alexander was king.* — Ed.] — Capell (p. 146) : A great stumbling-block, 
and like to continue so ; for what the editor has to propose, is almost too hardy to 
expect it will meet with such an assent as shall preclude future guesses. First then, 
it appears to him that ' Strachy ' is not the only corruption, for the multitude of defi- 
nite articles, and other causes, create suspicion that there is error in them too; 
'Strachy' should be the name of some place; the * example' Malvolio wants, is 
of a lady having sov'reignty somewhere who had marry' d beneath herself; Thessaly 
(a neighbour country to his) has a city — Trachyna^ in English — Trachyne ; and, to 
be brief, the editor would read if he might — * the lady of Trachyne marry' d the 
yeoman of her wardrobe.' — ^Johnson : What we should read is hard to say. Here 
is an allusion to some old story which I have not yet discovered. — Rev. Mr Smith 
(fl/. Grey, i, 230) : Straccio (see Torriano's and Altieri's Dictionaries) signifies rags, 
clatitSy and tatters ; and Torriano, in the Grammar, at the end of his Dictionary , says 
that straccio was pronounced stratchy. So that it is probable that Shakespeare' s mean- 
ing was this, that the chief Lady of the queen's wardrobe married a yeoman of the 
king's, who was vastly inferior to her. — Steevens : It does not appear that strachy 
was ever an English word, nor will the meaning given it by the Italians be of any 
use on the present occasion. Perhaps a letter has been misplaced, and we ought to 
read starchy ; i. e, the room in which linen underwent the once most complicated 
operation of starching. I do not know that such a word exists ; and yet it would 
not be unanalogically formed from the substantive starch. In Harsnet's Declaration, 
1603, we meet with * a yeoman of the sprucery * ; i. e. wardrobe ; and in the North- 
umberland Household- Book, nursery is spelt nurcy. Starchy, therefore, for starch - 
ery, may be admitted. In Rom. ^ Jul., the place where fnsste was made is called 
the pastry. The lady who had the care of the linen may be significantly opposed 
to the yeoman, i, e. an inferior officer of the wardrobe. While the Jive different 
coloured starches were worn, such a term might have been current. In the year 
1564, a Dutch woman professed to teach this art to our fair country-women. * Her 
nsual price,' says Stowe, ' was four or five pounds to teach them how to starch, and 
twenty shillings how to seeth starch.' The alteration was suggested to me by a 
typographical error in 7^ World toss'd at Tennis, no date, by Middleton and 
Rowley ; where straches is printed for starches. I cannot fairly be accused of having 
dealt much in conjectural emendation, and therefore feel the less reluctance to hazard 
a guess on this desperate passage. — M. Mason (p. 117) : It probably denotes some 
country ; perhaps Austrasia, the ancient name for Lorraine. — M alone : The place 
in which candles were kept, was formerly called the chandry ; and in Jonson's 
Bartholomew Fair, a ginger-bread woman is called * lady of the basket.' The great 

158 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc, v. 

[40, 41. The Lady of the Strachy,] 
objection to this emendation [Steevens's] is, that from the starchy Xa the wardrobe is 
not what Shakespeare calls a very < heavy declension.' The ' yeoman of the ward- 
robe' is not an arbitrary term, but was the proper designation of the wardrobe- 
keei>er in Shakespeare's time. Thus, Florio, Worlde of IVordes^ 1598 : • Vestiario^ 
... a wardrobe keeper, or a yeoman of a wardrobe.' The story which our poet bad 
in view is perhaps alluded to by Lyly in Euphues and his England^ 1580: * assuring 
my selfe that . . . there was a certain season when women were to be won, in the 
which moment they have neither will to deny, nor wit to mistrust. Such a time 
I haue read a young Gentleman found to obtaine the loue of the Duchesse of 
Millayne ; such a time I haue heard that a poore yeoman chose to get the fairest 
Lady in Mantua.'' \^. 273, ed. Arber.] — Boswell : * The dutchesse of Malphey 
chose for her husband her seruant Vlrico.* — Greene, Carde of Fancie^ >593' [p- *'9> 
ed. Grosart. In Webster's play, the * servants' name is Antonio Bologna. — Ed.] — 
R. P. Knight : The Governors employed by the Greek Emperors in Sicily and 
Italy from the sixth to the tenth century, were called IrpoTiryoi, Generals, or Pnetors, 
corrupted by the Italians, partly through their own, and partly through the Byzantine 
pronunciation, to stratici, pronounced stratichi ; which continued to be a title of 
magistracy in many states long afterwards ; and this word ' Strachy ' is only a further 
corruption of it acquired in its passage through successive French and English trans- 
lations of some old Italian novel, in which the widow of one of those magistrates had 
married an inferior officer of her household. See Giannone Hist, di Napoli, I. xi, 
c. vi. [R. G. White (ed. i) pronounced this suggestion * somewhat plausible.'] — 
Nares : Whatever becomes of the name * Strachy,' similar occurrences were never 
wanting, which might be the subject of allusion. R. Brome produces parallel 
instances in the song of a servant to his lady : ' Madam, Faire truth have told That 
queens of old Have now and then Married with private men. A countess was no 
blusher To wed her usher. Without remorse A lady took her horse- Keeper in wed- 
lock.' — New Acad. IV, i. One of these might be a lady of the strachy. Such 
examples were never 'rare. Lord Bacon's daughter married her gentleman-usher. 
Underbill ; and, though she was not a countess, her birth was noble. It is also 
asked by another dramatist, * Has not a deputy married his cook-maid ? An alder- 
man' s widow one that was her turn-broach [». e. turn-spit]?' — Beau. & FI. IVit at 
Seven Weapons, III, i.— -Becket (p. 241) : I would read * the lady of the stitch' ry'; 
this will mean the companion of some distinguished female ; one who sits at needle- 
work with her, and consequently of a superior situation in life to the 'yeoman.' 
Thus, in Coriolanus, I, iii, 75 : ♦ Come, lay aside your stitchery.' — Collier ; 
'Strachy' [may have been] the name of some noble family of which one of the 
female branches had condescended to marry a menial. Possibly that family was the 
Strozzi of Florence, [which the copyist of Shakespeare's MS converted into] Strozzi 
or Strozzy. Strozzy in old writing would look like * Strachy.' — Knight : The context 
points to some corruption of the name of a place. Malvolio would hardly say * the 
lady ' of the governor, for the widow of the governor ; but he would say, the lady 
of such a land, for the princess. Where the scene of the elevation of * the yeoman 
of the wardrobe ' was placed is of little consequence. It might be Astrakhan— 
Astracan — easily enough contracted into A-strachy, and as easily metamorphosed by 
a printer into the Strachy.— Hunter (i, 380), in discussing the Date of the present 
play, suggests that, in the ridicule which Shakespeare throws on Malvolio, and on the 
Puritan character in general, he was giving what aid and countenance he could to 

ACT II. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 159 

[40, 41. The Lady of the Strachy,] 
Dr Harsnet, who made a bitter attack on certain Puritans, in his Discovery of the 
froMduUnt practices of John Darrein etc., 1599 ; these 'practices* took place in the 
house of Nicholas Starkey or Starchy, and Hunter thinks it < as reasonable a con- 
jecture as is likely to be offered ' that Shakespeare introduced the name < Strachy ' on 
account of its * near resemblance to the name Starchy^ and as a kind of intimation to 
his audience to expect something on a topic which was at that time of no small 
public interest' This expectation was afterwards fulfilled in the supposed lunacy of 
Malvolio, and the ludicrous travestie of exorcism perpetrated by Feste. — Halu- 
WELL : That is, the lawyer's or judge's lady or widow. The term is now only pre- 
served in the Russian language, but it was probably taken by Shakespeare from 
some novel or play, upon which he may have founded the comic incidents of this 
drama. • From the list of all the crown servants of Russia, sent every year to the 
State Secretory of the Home Department at St. Petersburg ; in which, for 1825 and 
1826, Procureur Botwinko was reported to be imprisoned at Vilna for the above case, 
and the Strapchy of Oszmiana was acting in his stead as procureur pro tern* — 
Household WordSy 1 5 March, 1851. Various alterations of 'strachy' have been 
suggested : . . . saucery^ sophy, Strachy was and is an English family surname. 
WUliam Strachey published Lawesy etc., for Virginia, 1 61 2, and there are verses by 
him preserved in MS, Ashmol, 781. [See Tempest, p. 313, of this ed.] It may be 
worth notice that one of the characters in GP Inganni, by Secchi, is described as, 
• Straccia, Servidor del Capitano,' though there is no probability that the name of 
this inferior personage could have suggested that found in the present comedy. 
—Colonel Henry Strachey (p. S) : I think it may be shown that Steevens was 
probably right in his conjectural emendation, and failed only to stote his own case 
in a conclusive way. A corroboration of this may be found in the very passage of 
the old annalist to which he refers, — too briefly,— and I now subjoin it, from Stow's 
Annalsy p. 868, ed. 1631 : *In the year 1563, at which time began the civill dis- 
sention in Flanders, and very many Netherlanders fled into this land, with their 
wives children and whole families.' (Page 869) : < In the year one thousand five 
hundred and sixty foure, Mistris Dinghen Van-den-Plasse, bom at Teenen in 
Flanders, daughter to a worshipfull Knight of that province, with her husband, came 
to London for their better safeties, and there professed herself a Starcher ; wherein 
she excelled, and [to] whom her own nation presently repaired ; and payed her very 
liberally for her work. Some very few of the best and most curious wives of that 
time observing the neatnesse and delicacy of the Dutch for whiteness and fine wear- 
ing of linen, made them Cambricke Rufles, and sent them to Mistris Dinghen to 
starch ; and after a while they made them rufles of lawn, which was at that time a 
stufle most strange and wonderfull ; and thereupon rose a generall scofle or byword 
that shortly they would make Rufles of spiders' web ; and then they began to send 
their daughters and neatest [sic. qu. nearest?^ kinswomen to Mistris Dinghen to 
learn how to storch. Her usual price at that time was foure or five pounds to teach 
them how to storch, and twenty shillings how to seethe storch. This Mistris 
Dinghen was the first that ever tought storching in England.' Here we find that 
the * Dutch woman ' of Steevens was a Flemish Lady of equestrian (Mirentage, and 
therefore a bom gentlewoman ; and there is no ground for supposing that her hus- 
band, who accompanied her from Flanders, was anything less than a gentleman of 
the same country and rank. So that they themselves cannot with any probability be 
identified with the * Lady ' and the * Yeoman ' of the mesalliance. The Lady we 

l6o TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. v. 

[40, 41. The Lady of the Strachy,] 
are in quest of would be more probably one of the English patronesses or pupils of 
the Flemish artist ; among < the best and most curious wives of that time ' ; or one 
of * their daughters or nearest kinswomen' — presumably of the same rank, as *the 
daughter of a worshipful! knight.' We know that new fashions in dress begin at the 
upper end of the social scale, and descend afterwards, through old clothes and infe- 
rior copies, to ' the lower orders ' ; and in those days ladies of the higher class put 
their own hands to many details of domestic work since relegated to servants. The 
< Cambricke ' and ' Lawn,' now conmion enough, but then ' most strange and won- 
derfull stuffe,' must have been costly materials at that time ; and * the usual price ' 
charged by the Flemish Professor * for teaching how to starch ' them,— considering 
the relative value of money in the middle of the i6th century and the end of the 
19th — ^far exceed the fees now paid by our west-end young ladies for a course of 
lectures on cookery or other of the finer arts and sciences at the University of South 
Kensington. A Lcidy^ * therefore, may be admitted ' for the direction of a Starchery, — 
in the early days of the new art, — at that time Queen Elizabeth was in her prime, — 
aet. 31, — ^but (if it may be said without Ifese-majest^) her beauty was not like that 
of her remote ancestress, — * when unadorned adorned the most,' — nor was Queen 
Bess ' the farest of her ' subjects ; and she certainly was not behind the ' best and 
most curious' of her country women, in resorting to the decorations of the new 
Flemish art, as testified by the noli-me-osculari chevaux-de-frise of her contempo- 
rary portraits. The Starchery would thus become a necessary adjunct to the royal 
laundry, of sufficient importance to be placed under the charge of a lady attached 
to the Queen's court. Such a person might have been * the daughter of a Count,' 
like * the fair Olivia,* — or of a * worshipfull knight,' — as * Mistress Dingen-van-den- 
Plasse' of Brabant,— -or as the Queen's own mother Anne, daughter of Sir Thomas 
Boleyne, — perhaps some Alice Ford or Anne Page of Windsor, whose * articles of 
gentry ' were not to be bartered for ' hack ' knighthood. The least of these would 
be as far above the Yeoman in social rank as the Countess was to her Steward, who 
is repeatedly spoken of as a ' gentleman,' and was superior in manners and educa- 
tion to the two Knights. We cannot positively identify the Yeoman in question ; 
but indirect evidence of the existence of such a person may be found in the history 
of ' the King's wardrobe.' This was formerly a separate department of the royal 
household, and the office of Master of the Wardrobe was held by a person of high 
rank. In the latter part of Elizabeth's reign the Master, Sir John Fortescue, also 
held other high offices, and the so-called Wardrobe was also used as a depository for 
important state papers. Under such conditions, it is obvious, that the lower duties 
of the Wardrobe proper must have been committed to a subordinate of inferior rank, 
who, according to the custom of that time, would be called * the Yeoman ' ; an indis- 
pensable person ; though not so important as to claim particular mention in historical 
records. The office of the Warbrobe was abolished a hundred years after Elizabeth's 
death in 1603, and nothing now remains of the old habitation but its locality and 
name. The Starchery, as a distinct department of the royal laundry, would prob- 
ably disappear with Elizabeth herself ; the yeoman still survives in the ranks of the 
royal body-guard. . . . The reading Starchy ^ proposed by Steevens, thus becomes 
intelligible and appropriate, when applied to the Queen's house-hold. [As to the 
English family named Strachey, mentioned by Halliwell, whereof the head and 
earliest known ancestor has been brought into an imaginary connection with Shake- 
speare, Col. Strachey remarks in conclusion that < this family could not, in any way. 

ACT II. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL i6l 

An. Fie on him lezabel. 42 

Fa. O peace, now he's deepely in : looke how imagi- 
nation blowes him. 

Mai, Hauing beene three moneths married to her, 45 

fitting in my (late. 

71?. O for a ftone-bow to hit him in the eye. 47 

43. in: looke\ in. Look Ktly. 46. JiaU.'\ state — Popeetseq. (subs.) 

be connected with Shakespeare's *< Lady of the Strachy." ' To me the insuperable 
objection to all the foregoing emendations is that we are not thereby advanced one 
jot. What help is there to be found in hearing that the Lady of the Stracd or of 
the Strozzi or of the Starchy married the Yeoman of the Wardrobe, when we know 
DO more about any of them than we do about the Lady of the Strachy herself? 
Unless the instance of some particular Lady, with a story attached, be adduced, 
it is merely an exchange of one unknown name for another unknown name ; and, 
like Dr Johnson's whirlpool, it becomes motion without progression. In a ' desper- 
ate ' case like the present, there can be no possible objection to the assumption that 
we have here a misprint No one who has examined HalliweU's Dictionary of 
Misprints, where we find that * Juggler ' has been misprinted tailor, and * oysters ' 
misprinted eye-sores, will hesitate to agree with Halliwell when he says that < the 
unsettled spellings of our ancestors render almost any emendation, however extrav* 
agant, a typographical possibility ' ; but, first, the misprint must be proved to be a 
misprint, and, next, the emendation must be an emendation. Steevens's * Straches' 
for Starches undoubtedly suggests the possibility of a misprint here ; this possibility 
would become a certainty were there known to history any Lady of the Starchy 
who had married beneath her; without this knowledge, Starchy is no better than 

* Strachy,' and the change can hardly be called a genuine emendation. — Ed.] 

42. lezabel] It is sufficient for Sir Andrew that * Jezebel' sounds insulting. 
According to the Cam. Ed., Lloyd conjectured that we should read her instead of 
•him.' This ingeniously makes Sir Andrew's remark apply to the Lady of the 
Stnurhy. It saves the knight* s weak intellect at the expense of two letters. Is it 
wofth them ? — Ed. 

43. deepely in] This has been interpreted by Dkighton, «now he's well into 
tiie snare ' ; but he has not yet been caught in the snare. It rather means, I think, 
DOW he is deeply lost in his wild fancies. — Ed. 

44. blowes him] Steevens : That is, puffs hun up. So, in Ant, &» Cleop, V, 
ii, 352 : « Here on her breast There is a vent of Wood and something blown.* 

46. sute] Steevens: This signified a chair with a canopy over it. So, in 
t Hen, IV: II, iv, 416: 'This chair shall be my state.'— W. A. Wright: The 

• state * was properiy the canopy itself. G)mpare Milton, x, 445 : * Invisible 
Ascended his high throne, which, under state Of richest texture spread, at the 
upper end Was pUured in regal lustre.* [Cotgrave has * Dais or Dias, A cloth 
of EsUte, Canopie, or Heauen, that stands oner the heads of Princes thrones ; also 
the whole State, or seat of EsUte; also the boords of a beds teaster whereat the 
valances be hanged.'] 

47. 8tone-bov7] Johnson : That is, a cross-bow, a bow which shoots stones.— 
Steevens : Thus, in Marston's Dutch Courtetan, 1605 : 'the drawer . . . knowing 
that whosoever will hit the mark of profit most, like those that shoot in stone-bows, 


l62 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. v. 

McU. Calling my Officers about me, in my branch'd 48 

Veluet gowne : hauing come from a day bedde, where I 
haue left Oliuia fleeping. 50 

To. Fire and Brimftone. 

Fa. O peace, peace. 

Mai. And then to haue the humor of ftate : and after 
a demure trauaile of regard : telling them I knowe my 
place^as I would they fhould doe theirs : to aske for my 55 

kinfman Toby. 

To. Boltes and fhackles. 

Fa. Oh peace, peace, peace, now, now. 

Mai. Seauen of my people with an obedient ftart, 59 

49. day bedde\ day-bed Rowe. (subs.) 

50. Jltfping,^ sleeping: Cap. et seq. 56. kin/man] (Mcle Kowt ii, + . 
(subs.) Toby.] Tody — Rowe et seq. 

54. regard .'"l regard, Rowe et seq. (subs.) 

(subs. ) 58. peace, nazu] peace ; now Rowe ii. 

55. theirs .'"l theirs — Rowe et seq. peace! now Cap. et seq. (subs.) 

wink with one eye.' [I, i.] Again, in Beaumont & Fletcher, A Kingemdno King: 
* Children will shortly take him for a wall And set their stone-bows in his forehead.' 
[V, i.] — Halliwell : Thus, * Hailstones full of wrath shall be cast as out of a 
stone bow.* — Booh of Wisdom, v, 22. 

48. branch'd] W. A. Wright : That is, ornamented with patterns of leaves 
and flowers. Cotgrave gives : ' Fueillage : m. Branched worke, in Painting, or in 
Tapistrie.* And, * Velours JigurL Branched Veluet. ' Compare, Ford, The Witch of 
Edmonton, III, iii : * Th' other's cloak branch'd velvet, black, velvet-lin'd his suit' 

49. day bedde] That is, a couch, or sofa. * Day-beds ' were apparently quite 
as common formerly as are couches or lounges now. Thus, in Beaumont & Fletcher, 
Rule a Wife and have a Wife, III, i : < Is the great couch up, the Duke of Medina 
sent? Altea. 'Tis up and ready. Margarita, And day-beds in all chambers? 
Altea. In all, lady.' 

53. humor of state] Collier (ed. ii) : Few words have been more frequently 
printed for each other than 'humour' and honour ; here the MS wrote honour in 
the margin and erased ' humour ' in the text The ' honour of state ' must mean the 
honour due to state ; and the * humour of state ' the airs Malvolio may mean to give 
himself upon his exaltation. As the case is doubtful, we [retain the original word]. 
— R. G. White: Honour is possibly the right word, as * humour' might also possi- 
bly have been, if * honour ' had been found in the text. — Anon. {^Blackwood, Aug. 
1853, p. 201) : * Humour of state' means the high airs, the capricious insolence, of 
authority, which is what Malvolio is glorying that he shall by and by have it in his 
power to exhibit. 

54. demure trauaile of regard] That is, scanning his * officers ' gravely one by 

57. Boltes and shackles] Suggestive of a prison. 

59. Seauen of my people] This extravagant number shows how ' deeply ' Mal- 
volio was < in.' 

ACT II, SC. v.] 



make out for him : I frowne the while , and perchance 
winde vp my watch, or play with my fome rich lewell : 
Toby approaches; curtfies there to me. 

To. Shall this fellow liue ? 

Fa. Though our filence be drawne from vs with cars, 
yet peace. 



61. my fome] F,, Mai. Var. *2I, Knt, 
Hal. Sing. Dyce i. my — some Coll. Wh. 
Cam. Ktly, Rife, Dtn. my handsome 
Daniel, fome F^F^ et cct. 

62. curtfies'l courtesies Mai. courtesies 

me,"] me: Cap. et seq. (subs.) 
64. wi£k cars"^ with cares Ff,Rowe, + , 
Cap. Var. '73. by th'ears Han. Coll. ii. 

iii (MS), Dyce ii, iii. Rife, Huds. wUh 
ears Knt (misprint?), with cats {i.e. 
whips) Jackson, laith cords Wh. with 
screws Bailey (i, ao6). with crows (t. e, 
crow-bars) Orger. with cues Joicey 
(A^. 6* ^. Vni, yi, 283, 1894). Tinth 
racks Mitford ap. Cam. with curs Anon, 
ap. Cam. 

61. watch] Watches were first brought to England from Germany in 1577. 
Spring pocket-watches (watches properly so called) have had their invention 
ascribed to Dr Hooke, ... he appears certainly to have produced what is called the 
pendulum watch about 1658. — Haydn, Diet, 0/ Dates. 

61. with my some rich lewell] Stebvens : This may signify, 'and play with 
some rich jewel of my own,* some ornament appended to my person. He is enter- 
taining himself with ideas of future magnificence. — Collier : It is more natural to 
suppose that Malvolio, having mentioned his watch, then rather a rarity, wishes to 
enumerate some other valuable in his possession, and pauses after * or play with my,' 
following it up with the words ' some rich jewel,* not being able on the sudden to 
name any one in particular. — Dyce (ed. ii) : ' My' is an accidental repetition, occa- 
sioned by the preceding * my watch.' — B. Nicholson {New Sh, Soc. Trans. 1875-6, 
p. 154) : There is here a true touch of nature and a most humorous one. While 
Sir Toby is being fetched to the presence, the Lx>rd Malvolio would frowningly 
wind up his watch or play with — and here from force of habit he fingers [his badge 
of office], and is about to add * play with my chain,' but suddenly remembering that 
he would be no longer a steward, or other gold-chained attendant, he stops shorty 
and then confusedly alters his phrase to — 'some rich jewel.' [This explanation 
carries instant and complete conviction to the present — Ed.] 

62. Toby] W. A. Wright : Malvolio' s * humour of state' begins to show itself 
in this familiarity with Sir Toby's Christian name. 

62. curtsies] Reed : This word was employed to express acts of civility and 
reverence by either men or women. Lx)rd Herbert of Cherbury, in his Li/e, speak- 
ing of dancing, recommends that accomplishment to youth, * that he may know how 
to come in and go out of a room where company is, how to make courtesies hand- 
somely, according to the several degrees of persons he shall encounter.' 

63. Shall this fellow liue?] Note the ascending degrees of Sir Toby's wrath. 
First < rogue,' then *hit him in the eye,* then *Fire and brimstone,' next, to clap 
him in prison, and here, to hang him. From this point his fury subsides and the 
humour of the situation begins to have sway. — Ed. 

64. drawne from vs with cars] Johnson : I believe the true reading is ; 
'dimwp from us with carts.' Compare 7W Gent. IH, i, 265 :* yet I am in love; 

l64 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. v. 

Mai. I extend my hand to him thus : quenching my 66 

familiar fmile with an auftere regard of control!* 

To. And do's not Toby take you a blow o'the lippes, 
then? 69 

67. cofUroll.'\ controtU; Cap. et seq. 68. <fthe\ on ike Rowe i. 


but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me.' So, in this play. III, ii, 60 : 
' oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together.' — Stbevens : It is well known 
that 'cars* and carts have the same meaning. — TVRWHITT (p. 27) : If I were to 
suggest a word in place of *■ cars,' which I think is a corruption, it should be ccibUs. 
[Coleridge (p. 121) makes the same suggestion.] It may be worth remarking that 
the leading ideas of Malvolio, in his ' humour of state/ bear a strong resemblance 
to those of Alnaschar in The Arabian Nights, — Hunter (i, 406) : If we must alter 

* cars,' I would suggest cart-ropes^ on the ground that this may be one of the many 
allusions to passages of Scripture which are found in these plays. * Woe unto them 
that draw iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin, as it were, with a cart-rope.' — 
Isaiah v, 18. [From this same verse of Isaiah, R. G. White subsequently drew his 
emendation, cords, — Ed.] — Walker {jCrit. ii, 7) : I believe that the true reading 
is racks^ and that it was written ' cars ' by a species of mental confusion, which we 
have all at times experienced, the c and the r changing places in the writer's 
thoughts. [In proposing racks Walker was anticipated by * Dent, MS,' according 
to Halliwell, and also by Mitford, according to the Text, Notes of the Cam. Ed.] 
— Lettsom (Footnote to Walker) approves of Walker's emendation, and remarks 
that it 'speaks for itself.' — Staunton considered it preferable to any suggestion 
that had been previously made. — Singer (5A. Vind, p. 66) : We should read, 
'with tears,"* Their risible faculties were so excited by the ridiculous conduct of 
Malvolio, that to suppress loud laughter brought tears into their eyes. — DvcB 
(ed. ii) : Hanmer's reading, I feel convinced, is what the author wrote. Formerly 

* bith ' was very common as the contraction of *■ by the * ; and therefore * bith ears ' 
might easily be corrupted into * with cars.' — R. G. White (ed. i) : Cords for 'cars* 
would seem an obvious correction. [In White's Second Edition the text reads cords^ 
without any note or comment to intimate that it is the Editor's own word, and not 
in the Folio. In his general PrefacCy White tells us that ' in determining what 
passages were sufficiently obscure to justify explanation [he] took advice of his 
washerwoman.' It is evident that he had consulted her on the present occa- 
sion, and that she had emphatically decided in favour of cords^ as synonymous to 
lines. It is a little remarkable that her voice did not plead successfully for the 
Lady of the Starchy. — Ed.] — Hudson: I have little doubt the text should be 
-w^ th^ ears : for the Poet very often uses with in such cases where we should 
use by^ and the double elision of with and the^ so as to make one syllable, is very 
frequent with him. — W. A. Wright : Shakespeare may have read of the fate of 
Mettus Fuffetius who was torn asunder by chariots for treachery by the orders of 
Tullus Hostilius. See Virgil, y£»., viii, 642-5. [Fabian means that they must not 
speak even though the greatest imaginable strain were applied to make them break 
silence. To express this heavy strain, Shakespeare uses the word 'cars'; 
therewith I am content ; and do not wish to abridge the happiness of my neighbour 
if he find more vigorous agents in cart-ropes^ racks, screws, cords, cats, or crows, 

ACT II, sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 165 

Mai. Sa)dng, Cofine Toby^ my Fortunes hauing caft 70 

me on your Neece, giue me this prerogatiue of fpeech. 

To. What, what? 

Mai. You muft amend vour drunkenneHe. 

To. Out fcab. 

Fab. Nay patience, or we breake the fmewes of our 75 

plot r 

Mai. Befides you wade the treafure of your time, 
with a foolifh knight • 

And. That^s mee I warrant you. 

Mai. One fir Andrew. 80 

And. I knew 'twas I, for many do call mee foole. 

Mai. What employment haue we heere ? 

Fa. Now is the Woodcocke neere the gin. 83 

7a Coyine] 6^r/^ Rowe ii, + . 79. you^lyou: Ft 

71. giuf] £^s CoW. MS. ap. Cam. 80. Andrew.] Andrew, — Thcob. 

/peech,'\ fpeech: Ft speech — Andrew: Cap. et seq. (subs.) 

Rowe. 82. employment'^ implement Theob, 

76. plot^ Ff. plot, Rowe. conj. Han. 

78. knight,'\ Ff. knight— Rowe, -I- [Taking up a Letter. Rowe. (the 

knight; Cap. et seq. (subs.) Letter. Theob.) 

68. Toby] Possibly, in a modem text, this might be placed in quotation marks, 
as an echo of Malvolio*s <Toby' in line 62. — Ed. 

68. take you a blow] W. A. Wright : Compare Hen. V: IV, i, 231 : ' By this 
hand, I will take thee a box on the ear.' — Deighton : Compare Meas. for Afeas, 
II, i, 189 : *ht took you a box on the ear'; Tarn, of the Shr, III, ii, 165 : 'took 
him such a cuff.* 

74. scab] Still in current use in this country, applied to those who refuse to join 
in a workman's strike. See Afuch Ado, III, iii, 99 (of this ed.), where it is used in 
a double sense. — Ed. 

82. employment] Warburton : Equivalent to, < What's to do here?' [In V, i, 
of Chapman's Widau/s Tears, Lysander enters with a crow-bar, halter, etc., where- 
with to remove from the tomb a corpse which was supposed to be that of himself, — 
the plot is the familiar story of the Matron of Ephesus, — and says to Cjrnthia *my 
stay hath been prolong' d With hunting obscure nookes for these emploiments.' In 
a note Reed says that < employments ' is here used in the same sense as implements, 
and that it may be defended by its use by MaWolio in the.present passage. Walker 
{^Crii, iii, 86) quotes the lines from The Widows Tears, with Reed's note thereon'; 
and observes : * Surely we should read, in both passages, implement and implements, 
Imploiment — implement.* However needful may be the change in Chapman's 
Comedy, it is not so manifest an improvement here. Lysander is not Malvolio. 
The steward is still acting the imaginary Lord, and therefore lofty speech is appro- 
priate. I think * employment ' should stand. Neither Reed nor Walker seems to 
have been aware that Theobald (Nichols, Illnst. ii, 356) had proposed implement, 
and that Hanmxr had adopted it — Ed.] 

l66 TIVELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. v. 

To. Oh peace, and the fpirit of humors intimate rea- 
ding aloud to him. 85 

Mai. By my life this is my Ladies hand : thefe bee her 
very Csj her Wsj and her T^j, and thus makes fhee het 
great P^s. It is in contempt of queflion her hand. 88 

S4. and"] iViwRowe, + . herVs Fj. 

85. him.'\ him ! Rowe ii et seq. 87. hef\ F,. 

87,89. her U*s] F^. her V's F,. 88. contempt of^ contempt to Y^^. 

83, 84. Pa. . . . To.] Elzb (p. 181) : A nice discrimination between the chatac- 
ters of Fabian and Sir Toby leads to the suspicion that the prefixes of these two 
speeches have been most likely transposed and should be altered. 

83. Woodcocke] Willughby (p. 290) : Among us in England this Bird is 
infamous for its simplicity or folly ; so that a Woodcock is Proverbially used for a 
simple foolish person. [The incomparable Feste uses the bird with effect in his 
exorcism of Malvolio. — Ed.] 

83. g^n] W. A. Wright: An abbreviated form of engine^ which originally 
denoted anything made with skill (Lat ingenium). So in Chaucer's Squire's Tale 
(10442) : <He that it wrought, he cowthe many a gyn'; that is, a skilful con- 

87. To understand the Text, Note, it is to be observed that the Italic ' U* is one 

which is used indifferently for Italic V or U; as is frequently to be seen in the pre- 
fixes to Viola's speeches. It is the same letter in F^. It is an Italic V in F^ and 
an unmistakeable Italic U in F . As far as the Folio is concerned, we have quite 
as much right to say that the letter is a V as a U. — Ed. 

88. great P*8] Steevens : In the direction of the letter which Malvolio reads, 
there is neither a C, nor a P, to be found. — Malone : This was perhaps an over- 
sight in Shakespeare. It is remarkable, that in the repetition of the passages in 
letters, which have been produced in a former part of a play, he very often nuikes 
his characters deviate from the words before used, though they have the paper itself 
in their hands, and though they appear to recite, not the substance, but the very 
words. So, in Ali^s Well, V, iii, 312, Helen says, * here's your letter ; this it says : 
** When from my finger you can get this ring And are by me with child," etc.'; yet 
in III, ii, 60, she reads this very letter aloud ; and there the words are different and 
in plain prose : ' When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which never shall 
come off, and shew me a child begotten of thy body,' etc. Had she spoken in 
either case from memory, the deviation might be easily accounted for ; but, in both 
places, she reads the words from Bertram's letter. — RiTSON : From the usual custom 
of Shakespeare's age, we may easily suppose the whole direction to have run thus : 
* To the Unknown belov'd, this, and my good wishes, with Care Present.* — Halli- 
WELL : The usual address of letters, in Shakespeare's time, amongst equals, was 
merely, *to my loving friend give this,' to which the words with speed were some- 
times added. Instead of give this were sometimes the words, these be delivered, or 
deliver these, — W. A. Wright: If Ritson's supposition be correct, no more needs 
be said on the point ; but I have grave doubts about it. — Innes : It is an obvious 
and simple way out of the difficulty to suppose that Malvolio does not read the 
whole of the address aloud, but that would not fit well with so precise a character. 
Probably Shakespeare merely named letters that would sound well, knowing that no 
audience would detect a discrepancy. [See ' throwne,' V. i, 391.] 

ACT II. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 167 

An. Her Cj, her IPsy and her T^si why that? 

Mai. To t/te vnknowfie belot^dy thisj and my good Wijhes : 90 

Her very Phrafes : By your leaue wax. Soft, and the im- 
preffure her Lucrece^ with which (he vfes to feale : tis my 
Lady : To whom fhould this be ? 

Fab. This winnes him, Liuer and all. 

Mai. loue knowes I loue^ but who^ Lips do not moouey no 95 

fnan mujl know. No man muft know. What foUowes ? 

89. herT% .] her Ts and Ps ! Ktly. (reading Alas! but who,) Han. Two 

90. [Reads.] Cap. [Reads the super- lines, Johns. Var. '73, Huds. Four 
scription.] Coll. iii. lines. Cap. et seq. 

91. Softf"] Soft! Rowe. soft; Cap. 95. but who,] but who f Cap. et seq. 
93. [Opes the Letter.] Cap. Lips] Lips, Cap. (ErraU.) Wh. 
95, ICO. [Reads.] Cap. Glo. Cam. Dyce ii, iii, Huds. Dtn. 

95, 96. loue ... know.] Two lines 96. know,"] know — Rowe, + . 

88. contempt of question] W. A. Wright : That is, beyond the possibility of 
dispute ; so obvious, that to question it is absurd. 

91. wax. Soft,] Strangely enough, Malone supposed that *Soft' applied to 
the wax ; he referred to the custom of sealing letters with soft wax, and, in proof, 
quoted from Middleton's Your Five Gallants, II, iii : * Fetch a pennyworth of soft 
wax to seal letters'; and also FalstafT's speech in 2 Hen, IV: IV, iii, 140: ' I have 
him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with 
him.' — Steevens : I do not suppose that ' Soft !' has any reference to the wax ; but 
b merely an exclamation equivalent to * Softly !' t. e, be not in too much haste. 
Thus, in The Mer. of Yen. IV, i, 320: 'Soft! The Jew shall have all justice; 
soft ! no haste.' I may also observe, that though it was anciently the custom (as it 
still is) to seal certain legal instruments with soft and pliable wax, familiar letters 
(of which I have seen specimens from the time of Henry VI. to James I.) were 
secured with wax as glossy and firm as that employed in the present year. 

91. By your leaue] Thus, also, in Lear, IV, vi, 258, when Edgar opens a let- 
ter he says, 'Leave, gentle wax.* And Imogen says, 'Good wax, thy leave.* — 
Cj^m. Ill, ii, 35. 

92. Lucrece] Whiter (p. 42, footnote) : Everything that we read in our ancient 
authors respecting Lucretia appears to remind us of the source from which it is 
derived, and to point out how familiarly her picture or representation is impressed 
on the mind of the writer. She seems to have been a common subject for engraving 
on seals. [The present passage is here quoted, and also the reference to * Lucrece * 
in line 100.] Nay, so common were her portraits, that she became the figure on the 
Sign of the King's Printer Berthelette in Fleet-street, who flourisheji about the year 
1540. A cut of her is sometimes to be seen in his books. — Halliwell gives an 
engraving and a minute description of an antique ring, bearing an engraved head of 
Lucretia, in the possession of Lord Londesborough. But W. A. Wright says that 
* it is very doubtful indeed whether it represents Lucretia at all, and being in niello 
it could not have been used as a signet ring.* 

95, 96. loue . . . mooue, no man must know] Capell*s division of this prose 
into four lines of verse has been properly, and almost uniformly, followed. Unfortu- 

l68 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. v. 

The numbers alter d : No man muft know, 97 

If this fhould be thee Maluolio f 
To. Marrie hang thee brocke. 

Mai. I ntay command where I adore y but Jilence like a Lu" lOO 
crejje knife : 
With bloodlejfe Jlroke my heart doth gore^ M. 0. A. I. doth 

/way my life. 103 

97. numbers alter d:"] Yf, numbers wife F3F4. Lucrece knife Rowe ii et 

altered — Rowe i. number's altered — seq. Lucrec^ knife Walker ( Crit, ii, 

Rowe ii, Theob. Warb. Johns. Knt, loi), Dyce, Huds. 

Coll. Wh. i. numbers alter — Han. I00-103. Fonr lines, Han. Johns, et 

number is altered Var. '73. numbers seq. 

alten^d! Cap. et cet. 102. bloodleife] boldness Rowe i. 

100,101. LucreiTe knife] F,. Lucrefs 

nately, not so uniform has been the adoption of his excellent comma after * Lips \ 
which converts the phrase into a command to ' Lips ' not to move. — Ed. 

97. The numbers alter d] That is, the versification. Thus, HamUt^ II, ii, 
120: <0 dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers.' It will not escape notice that 
lines 97 and 98 are printed as a rhyming couplet ; an arrangement which can be 
merely the vagary of a compositor. Although Malvolio says, in reference to lines 
100-103, that the metre is altered, he does not proceed at once to read these lines, 
but is distracted by the enigma in what he has already read. — Ed. 

99. brocke] Ritson {Remarks ^ p. 64) : That is, a badger. Sir Toby uses the 
word as a term of contempt, as if he had said, 'hang thee, curP 'Out, fiUh P — 
M ALONE : That is, thou vain, conceited coxcomb, thou over- weening rogue ! So, in 
T^e Merrie Conceited Jests of George Peele, 1 657 : « This self-conceited brock had 
George invited to half a score sheets of paper,' [ii, 289, ed. Dyce. As W. A. 
Wright says, the epithet here, in this quotation from Peele, 'supplies the sense 
which Malone would attribute to ** brock.** *] — H ALU well : The word is frequently 
used by Jonson, and is of common occurrence in many contemporary writers. As a 
term of contempt it is still used in Scotland and in some of the counties of England. 

102. M. O. A. I.] Halliwell : This * fustian riddle,* either purposely mean- 
ingless, or intended for, My Own Adored Idol, or some such words, or cypher, is 
imitated from similar enigmas which were current at the time. An example occurs 
in the Book of Merry RiddleSy 1629 : « M. and J. made great mone. When C. upon 
C. was left alone. — Solution, That is, Mary and John made great mone, When 
Christ on a Crosse was left alone.* — Fleay (Shakespeariana, 1884, i, 136) : I 
believe that Malvolio was a representation of Marston's vanity. ... At any rate, 
there is a singular likeness between the names of Malevole [in Marston*s Afalcon- 
tent'\ and the steward Malvolio, and a still more sing^ular agreement between ID : 
MA ;, Marston's abbreviated signature, and the M. O. A. I. of the letter addressed 
to MAI vol 10. These anagram conceits are so common in the sixteenth and seven- 
teenth centuries as to need no further notice ; and no satisfactory explanation of 
M. O. A. I. has hitherto been given. Small (p. 139), while acknowledging the 
shrewdness of this suggestion of Fleay, intimates that it is unsound, because, * unfor- 
tunately for Fleay,* * Malvolio bears not the least resemblance to Malevole except in 
name. Malevole, moreover, is clearly not intended to represent Marston himself; 

ACT II. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 169 

Fa. A fuflian riddle. 

To. Excellent Wench, fay I. 105 

Ma/. M. 0. A. I. doth fway my life. Nay but firft 
let me fee, let me fee, let me fee. 

Fab. What difh a poyfon has (he dreft him ? 

To. And with what wing the flallion checkes at it ? 

Mai. I may command^ where I adore : Why (hee may II o 
command me : I ferue her, (he is my Ladie. Why this is 
euident to any formall capacitie. There is no obftruflion 112 

106, 107. firft let me/ee\ firft FjF^, 108. di/h a\ F,. di/h o' Wh. Dyce, 

Rowe, + , Var. '73. Cam. Rife, Huds. dish a' Hal. di/h 

108. lVhat\ What a Rowe,-!-, Cap. ^ FjF^ et cet. 

Var. Ran. Var. Mai. Steev. Var. Knt, 109. ftaUion] stanyel Han. et seq. 
CoU. KUy. 

andy lastly, Twelfth Nighty mentioned by Manningham in February, 160 1-2, must 
ha¥e appeared at least eighteen months before The Malcontent, with its imitation 
of the version of Hamlet acted in 1603 and its allusion to the Scots that came in 
with James I.' 

102, 103. doth sway my life] Malone : This phrase is seriously employed in 
As You Like It, III, ii, 5 : * Thy Huntresse name, that my full life doth sway.' 

108. drest him ?] Dyce (ed. ii) : The interrogation-point at the end of this speech 
and the next is wrong. The meaning is, ' What a dish of poison,' etc. 

109. stallion] The mention of < wings' and 'checking' makes Hanmer's 
stannyel an emendatio ceriissima. — WiLLUGHBY (p. 84) gives a full description of 
'The Kestrel, Stannel, or Stonegall, in Latine Tinnunculus or Cenchris^ and con- 
cludes with saying : < Kestrils are wont commonly with us in England to be reclaimed 
and trained up for fowling, after the manner of other Rapacious birds. They catch 
not only small birds but also young Partridge. . . . This bird is by some called the 
IVind-hover,* — Malone : Here is one of at least a hundred instances of the tran- 
scriber of these plays being deceived by the ear. The eye never could have con- 
founded stannyel and 'stallion.' — CoLUER (ed. ii) : This altered \xi falcon in the 
MS is decidedly wrong, but probably the word was used on the stage at a time when 
'stannyel' was not understood, or considered obsolete. [Malone' s remark is emi- 
nently just, but had he been familiar with the practice of the early printing estab- 
lishments he would have said that it was the ear of the compositor, not of the 
'transcriber,' that was deceived. — Ed.] — Nares : ' This beautiful species of hawk,' 
says Montagu {Omith, Diet,), 'feeds principally on mice,' which accounts for its 
not being noticed at all by Latham and other writers on Falconry. 

109. checkes at it] Steevens : * To checke,' says Latham, Falconry, 1633, « is 
when crows, rooks, pies, or other birds, comming in the view of the hawke, she 
forsaketh her naturall flight to flie at them.' [See III, i, 64.] 

112. formall capacitie] Steevens: That is, any one in his senses, any one 
whose capacity is not disarranged, or out of form, [Or, as W. A. Wright 
expresses it, 'any one of a well-regulated mind.'] So in Com, of Err, V, i, 105 : 
' Till I have used the approved means I have. With wholesome syrups, drugs, and 
holy prayers, To make of him a formal man again.' 

I70 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. v. 

in this, and the end : What fhould that Alphabetical! po- 113 

fition portend , if I could make that refemble fomfthing 

in me ? Softly, M. O.A.I. 115 

To. O I, make vp that, he is now at a cold fent. 

Fab. Sowter will cry vpon't for all this, though it bee 
as ranke as a Fox. 1 18 

113. this^']this — Roweetseq. (subs.) 115. I.]/, — Dycc, Cam. 

end:'\ end— Rowe et seq. 116. O f] O, /, F^F^. 0,ay/Koyrt 

(subs.) et seq. 

114, 115. poriendf, ?"] Ff. portend, make vp\ make out Han. take 

„»me? Rowe i, portend?,., me? Rowe i(^ Anon. ap. Cam. 

ii, + , Var. *73. portend ?,„me, Han. 117. it dee] it ^en*t Han, it de net 

portend ?,., me f — Cap. et cet Johns. Ktly. 

116. O I] Sir Toby's echo of the letters is caught by the eye a little quicker in the 
Folio than in Rowe's * O, ay,* — Ed. 

117. Sowter] Steevens : A 'sowter' was a cobbler ; it is here, I suppose, the 
name of a hound. Thus, in Greene's Carde of Fancie^ 1608 : * If Appelles that 
cunning Painter, suffer the greasie Souter to take a riew of his curious worke, hee 
will grow so malapert, as to meddle with his picture. '[p. 102, ed. Grosart] 
— Madden (p. 52, footnote): Beckford, in his Thoughts on Hunting (1781), 
includes among the names of hounds in common use, Fury, Tyrant, . . . Echo, 
Mounter, and Saunter. For these, Shakespeare's Mountain and Sowter may be 
misprints. All the other names have some meaning applied to hounds ; but Moun- 
tain and Sowter {^cobbler) absolutely none. [But are we certain that 'Souter' (so 
spelled in the foregoing quotation from Greene) was not pronounced Shouter ? — 
just as suitor was pronounced shooter. Would there then be absolutely no meaning, 
as a hound's name, in ' Shouter'? Would it not be as appropriate as Echo ? — Ed.] 

118. ranke as a Fox] Capbll (p. 147) : The fourth modem [Hanmer] thought 
a negative was here wanted, but this quest that Malvolio is upon is rank as a fox, 
and to be follow' d without a cry (without op'ning) by any dog but a * Sowter,' and, 
so taken, a negative lessens the speech's wit. — M alone : I believe the meaning is: 
This fellow will, notwithstanding, catch at and be duped by our device, though the 
cheat is so gross that any one else would find it out. — Haluwell: The original 
text seems to be correct. Fabian, comparing Malvolio to a hound, says that he will 
cry upon it, that is, hunt after it, though it be gross and palpable. — The Cowden- 
Clarkes: 'Though it be' seems here to mean since it is or being as it is. — B. 
Nicholson suggested {^N.^Qu. Vllth, xii, 63, 1891) crank; that is, • though it be 
as twisting or winding as the wiles of a hunted fox. In fact, it would be used in 
exactly the sense in which Shakespeare uses it in Ven. ^ Ad. when speaking of the 
hare : *' How he outruns the wind, and with what care He cranks and crosses with 
a thousand doubles." lines 681, 682.' — W. A. Wright : Fabian speaks ironically: 
< Malvolio will make it out in time, though it is plain enough.' — Innes : 'Sowter,' 
literally * cobbler ' ; so equivalent to bungler. * Bungler ' (as though Malvolio were 
a stupid dog named Bungler) * will open cry ' (1. e. * will recover the scent ' ), * though 
a very inferior hound could do that seeing how rank it lies.' [We need here the 
indicative, though it is, not the subjunctive, ' though it bee ' ; and a majority of the 
preceding paraphrases boldly substitute it. The only way, it seems to me, whereby 

ACTii. sc. v.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 171 

Mai. M. Maluolioy M. why that begins my name. 

Fab. Did not I fay he woald worke it out, the Curre 120 
is excellent at faults. 

MaL M. But then there is no confonancy in the fequell 
that fufTers vnder probation : A. fhould follow, but 0. 

Fa. And (hall end, I hope. 125 

To. I, or I le cudgell him, and make him cry 0. 

Mai. And then /. comes behind. 

Fa. I, and you had any eye behinde you, you might 
fee more detraction at your heeles , then Fortunes before 
you. 1 30 

119. M. Maluolio,...iMm^] M^ — why 122, 123. fequell tkat'\ sequel; that 

,, M, — Malvolio / or Af, — Af, — Rowe et seq. 
Af, — wky„.name Cam. conj. 128. and you"] an you Han. Cap. Var. 

119. 122. M.] J/» — Cap. '78 et seq. 

120. outj^ out? Pope et seq. 

we can retain the present text is by laying a strong emphasis on * be,' and thus 
impart to it an indicative force. I would paraphrase the passage thus : ' For all this, 
that he is now at a cold scent, the dog will find it out, though it be as rank as a fox.* 
This, I think, helps to make the phrase equivalent to 'because it really m.' I can 
find no reason why < Sowter' (or, possibly, Shouter^ see preceding note) should be 
more contemptuous than any other name of a dog ; it is sufficient that it is equiv> 
alent to dog, and, possibly ^ there is a play on the words * Shouter ' and * cry.' — Ed.] 

121. at faults] Bradley {^N. E» D. s. y. Fault, 8) : Hunting, A break in the 
line of scent ; loss of scent ; a check caused by failure of scent. Thus, Ven, 6f Ad, 
694 : ' The hot scent-snuffing hounds . . . have singled . . . the cold fault cleanly out.' 

123. probation] Knowing that * probation ' means proof . it is not hard to trans- 
late Malvolio's lordly style. If we retain the punctuation of the Folio by discarding 
Rowe's semicolon after 'sequel,' an Anonymous conjecture, recorded in the Cam. 
Ed., of suffices for * suffers,' becomes plausible. I think Rowe's semi-colon should 
be merely a comma. — Ed. 

125. O shall end] Johnson : By < O ' is here meant what we now call a hempen 
collar, — Steevens : I believe he meant only * it shall end in sighing.' So, in Rom, 
^ Jul, III, iii, 90 : * Why should you fall into so deep an O ?* [As W. A. Wright 
says, 'the jesters never intended to carry their joke as far as' a hempen collar.] 

126, To.] Does this failure to catch Fabian's joke about * O,' or, rather, thus repeat 
it weakly, sound like Sir Toby ? After having longed for a * stone-bow,' and invoked 
' Fire and Brimstone,' ' Bolts and Shackles,' and after having even questioned whether 
Malvolio should live, is it in keeping that Sir Toby should talk of * cudgels '? The anti- 
climax would be hardly more abrupt had he said that Malvolio should be spoken to. 
In this speech do we not catch the tones of Sir Andrew's weak treble? — Ed. 

128. and you] Capell, in his text, adopted Hanmer's * an you,' but in his Notes 
(p. 147) he withdraws this an, and says ' the reading ought to have been— <* Ay, and 
if you had "; for *• you " is emphatical.' 

172 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii. sc. v. 

Mai. MfO,Af/.This fimulation is not as the former: 131 
and yet to crufh this a little, it would bow to mee, for e- 
uery one of thefe Letters are in my name. Soft, here fol- 
lowes profe : If this fall into thy hand, reuolue. In my ftars 
I am aboue thee, but be not affraid of greatneffe : Some 135 
are become great, fome atcheeues greatneffe, and fome 
haue greatneffe thruft vppon em. Thy fates open theyr 
hands, let thy blood and fpirit embrace them, and to in- 
vre thy felfe to what thou art like to be : caft thy humble 
flough, and appeare frefh. Be oppofite with a kinfman, 140 
furly with feruants : Let thy tongue tang arguments of 

l^i. y!mu/ation'] simtlalionCAp, (Et' 137. thruft vpp<mem'\ F,. (reading 

rata), Ran. ^em Sing, ii, Dyce, Cam. Sta. Ktly, 

132. bonv to mee\ bow me F^F^. Rife. ) /«/ upon em Fy put upon them 

133. are'\ is Rowe ii, Var. Ran. F^, Rowe i. thrust upon them Rowe ii 
134-148. If this.../iir/w<r//,] F,. In et cet. 

Italics FgF^ ct seq. 137. open^ upon F^F^. 

134. ftars"] state Lettsom ap. Dyce ii. 138, 139. them,, ../the to de:'] them; 
136. atcheeues"] atcheeve Yi et seq. .,Jike to be, Rowe et seq. (subs.) 

andfonu] and fome ^ and fome F,. 

131. simulation is not as the former] That is, this disguise is not so easily 
detected as *I may command where I adore.* Capell, in his Errata, changed 
< simulation * into similation on the ground, I suppose, that < simulation ' implies that 
Malvolio suspected some deceit. — Ed. 

132, 133. euery one . . . Letters are] The not imcommon plural by attraction ; 
here, after * letters.' For many other examples, see Abbott, § 412. 

136. are become gjeat] This phrase is afterward quoted twice, once by Mal- 
volio, in his interview with Olivia (III, iv, 44), and again by the Qown, in the last 
scene (V, i, 390) ; in both cases it is given ' some are bom great.' RoWE, accord- 
ingly, for the sake of unifomiity, changed * become ' to bom in the present passage, 
and therein has been uniformly followed by succeeding editors. 

136. atcheeues] Cambridge Editors : The First Folio here reads < atcheeues,' 
but as it has * atcheeue ' in III, iv, 46, and < atchieue ' in V, i, 390, it is plain that 
the first is a mere misprint. In many other passages, doubtless, the incorrect gram- 
mar found in the oldest editions is due to the printer, not to the author. 

138. blood and spirit] W. A. Wright : < Blood ' is used metaphorically for 
passion, or courage and high temper. Thus, in Hamlet, III, ii, 74 : ' And blest 
are those Whose blood and temper are so well conuningled,' etc. 

140. opposite] Malone: That is, adverse, hostile. An opposite meant an 
adversary. [See III, ii, 64, where it is so used. Perhaps * hostile' is too strong ; 
antagonistic, contradictory, seem more nearly right. It is not easy to see why any 
note is needed at all ; none would certainly have been recorded here had not so 
very many editors deemed a note of explanation needful. — Ed.] 

141. tang] This word occurs again, but not in the First Folio, at III, iv, 74, 
where the other Folios have * tang with,' which Hanmer adopted here. He has 
had, however, no followers. — W. A. Wright: *Tang' appears to be used of a 

ACTii, sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 173 

ftate ; put thy felfe into the tricke of fingularitie. Shee 142 
thus aduifes thee, that fighes for thee. Remember who 
commended thy yellow (lockings, and wifhM to fee thee 
euer croffe gartered : I fay remember, goe too, thou art 145 

145. remember, goe too] remember; go to Rowe ii ct seq. (subs.) 

loud dominant sound. See Fletcher's Night Walker, III, iv : «*Tis a stiange 
noise ! and has a tang o' the justice.' 

142. tricke of singularitie] W. A. Wright : That is, the aflfecUtion of being 
eccentric, which has before this done duty for originality. Compare IVint, Tale, 
IV, iv, 839 : * He seemes to be the more Noble, in being fantasticall.' 

X44. yeUow stockings] Percy : Before the civil wars yellow stockings were 
much worn. So in D'Avenant, The Wits, [1636]: 'You said, my girl, Mary 
Queasy by name. Did find your uncle's yellow stockings in A porringer,' etc. [IV, 
ii, p. 236, ed. Maidment This passage is to be found only in the ed. 1673, ^^'^ 
is not believed to have been written by D'Avenant— Ed.]— Steevens : So, Mid- 
dleton & Rowley, in The World Tost at Tennis^ 1620, where the five different- 
coloured starches are introduced as striving for superiority, Yellow Starch says to 
White : * since she cannot Wear her own linen yellow, yet she shews Her love to *t, 
and makes him [her husband] wear yellow hose.' [p. 182, ed. Dyce. The hose 
here referred to are represented as yellow merely because it was the colour of 
jealousy, — not because yellow hose were fashionable. — Ed.] Again, in Dekker's 
Honest Whore, second part, 1630, Lodovico sa3rs, ' What stockings have you put on 
this morning, madam? if they be not yellow, change them.' [I, i, p. 134, ed. 
Dyce, who, in a footnote, says, * Lodovico means — ^it is time for you to be jealous : 
'* Since citixens wiues fitted their husbands with yellow hose, is not within the mem- 
ory of man." Dekker's Owles Almanacke, 1618, p. 7. The word ** yellows" was 
frequently used for jealousy.' These last two quotations given by Steevens are in 
reality pointless, and would not have been repeated here were it not that they have 
been quoted by subsequent editors who did not notice that they were inappropriate. 
The following quotation is to the point. — Ed.] From Henry Gold well's account of an 
entertainment performed before Queen Elizabeth, in l^i, I find that < The yeomen 
attending the Earl of Arundel, Lord Windsor, and Mr Fulke Greville were dressed 
in yellow worsted stockings.' — W. A. Wright: 'Yellow stockings' were appar- 
ently a common article of dress in the 1 6th century, and the tradition of wearing 
them survives in the costume of the boys at Qirist's Hospital. They had apparently 
gone out of fashion in Sir Thomas Overbur3r's time, for in his Characters he sa3r8 
of ' A Country Gendeman,' ' If he goes to Court, it is in yellow stockings ' ; as if 
this were a sign of rusticity. They appear to have been especially worn by the 
young, if any importance is to be attached to the burden of a song set to the tune 
of Peg a Ramsey (Chappell, Popular Music, etc, p. 218), in which a married man 
laments the freedom of his bachelor days : ' Give me my yellow hose again. Give 
me my yellow hose.' Malvolio may have affected 3routhful fashions in dress. 

145. crosse garter*d] Steevens : So; in Ford, The Lower's Melancholy, 1629 
[acted in 1628] : ^Cucullus, Do I not look freshly, and like a youth of the trim? 
GriHa, As rare an old youth as ever walked cross-gartered.' [Ill, i, p. 48, ed. 
Dyce.] Again, in [Field's] A Woman is a Weathercock: "Tis not thy leg, no, 
were it twice as good. Throws me into this melancholy mood ; Yet let me say and 

174 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. v. 

[145. crosse garter'd] 
swear, in a cross-garter Paul's never show'd to eyes a lovelier quarter.' [IV, ii, 
p. 70, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley.] It appears that the ancient Puritans affected this fash- 
ion. Thus, Barton Holjday, speaking of the ill-success of his play called Techno^ 
gamia^ [1618] says: < Had there appeared some sharp cross-garter* d man. Whom 
their loud laugh might nickname Puritan ; Cas'd up in factious breeches, and small 
ruffe ; That hates the surplice, and defies the cuffe. Then,' etc In a former scene 
Malvolio was said to be an affecter of puritanism. — Doucs (i, 91) : In the English 
edition of Junius' s Nomenclator^ 15^5* mention is made of 'hose garters, going 
acrosse, or overthwart, both above and beneath the knee.' In Porter's Thoo angry 
Women of Abington^ I599» ^ serving-mBXi is thus described : ' He tell thee, sirrah, 
he's a fine neat fellow, A spruce slave ; I warrant ye, he'll have His cruel garters 
cross about the knee. '[p. 286, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley.] — Narbs : While modes are 
new, they are confined to the gay or affected ; when obsolete, they are yet retained 
by the grave and old. In Shakespeare's time this fashion was yet in credit, and 
Olivia's detestation of it arose, we may suppose, from thinking it coxcombical. 
Malvolio' s puritanism had probably nothing to do with this. Yellow stockings were 
then high fashion, and so, doubtless, were cross-garters. The following passage 
proves it : ' All short-cloak' d knights, and all cross-garter* d gentlemen. All pump 
and pantofle, foot-cloth riders, With all the swarming generation Of long stocks, 
short pan'd hose, and huge stuff' d doublets,' etc. — Fletcher, The Woman-hater^ 
1607, I, ii. But when Holyday wrote of the ill-success of his Technogamia, the 
fashion was exploded, and was retained only by Puritans and old men. — Halu- 
WELL gives four wood-cuts of cross-garters. The first is copied from a figure of one 
of the Magi in the Benedictional of St. Ethelwold, a MS of the tenth century, and 
much resembles a surgeon's bandage overlapping from the ankle to the knee ; the 
fourth and fifth represent the cross-gartering depicted on a Tartar, in a book on 
costume published at Antwerp in 1582, and on the leg of a Guerilla in 1818, 
respectively ; neither of these is very greatly to the purpose for obvious reasons ; 
but Nos. 2 and 3 represent ' the front and back views of the knee of a gentlenuin, 
from a piece of tapestry of the early part of the sixteenth century ; they very clearly 
show the mode in which the garter was brought from beneath the knee, and 
secured in a bow above it, after passing behind the leg.' — Farmer : Thus Sir 
Thomas Overbury presents a Footman, * Gards hee weares none ; which makes him 
live more upright than any crosse-gartered gentleman-usher.' — Character of a Foot- 
man^ 1614. — W. A. Wright: Malvolio was to be cross-gartered, not like a stage 
bandit, but wearing the garters both above and below the knee, so as to be crossed 
at the back of the leg. There are frequent references to this fashion. When Ford 
wrote his Lover's Melancholy * cross-garters ' were apparently becoming obsolete. 
. . . The Puritans would naturally be in the rearward of the fashion and would go 
cross-gartered long after every one else had ceased to do so. And it by no means 
follows, because * cross-gartered ' was an appropriate epithet for a Puritan some 
fifteen or twenty years later, that Shakespeare intended Malvolio' s Puritanism 
(which, after all, had its existence only on Maria's sharp tongue), to show itself in 
this manner. ... Sir Thomas Overbury, when he wrote his Character of a Footman, 
had probably Malvolio in his mind. — Deighton : From the *villanous' way in 
which, according to Maria, Malvolio had cross- gartered himself, and from his own 
admi5;sion of the * obstruction in the blood ' caused by so doing, we may perhaps 
infer that in the present instance the £eishion had been exaggerated, travestied. 

ACT 11, sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 175 

made if thou defir'ft to be fo : If hot, let me fee thee a fte- 146 
ward ftill, the fellow of feruants, and not woorthie to 
touch Fortunes fingers Farewell, Shee that would alter 
feruices with thee, tht fortunate vnhappy daylight and 
champian difcouers not more : This is oi>en, I will bee 150 
proud, I will reade pollticke Authours, I will baffle Sir 
Tofyy I will wafli off groffe acquaintance, I will be point 
deuife, the very man. I do not now foole my felfe, to let 153 

148. fingers] fingers, Rowe el seq. Dyce, Glo. Cam. 

149. thee^ (hi fortunate vnhappy 150. difcouers not"] discevers no Voi^, 
dayltghi]Y{, thee,* The fortunate and +. discover no Han. discover not 
happy Day-light Rowe, Pope, Theob. Dyce ii, iii, Huds. 

thee the fortunate and happy,* Daylight 1 51. pollticke] F,. 

Han. Warb. Johns, thee. The fortu- 152, 153. point deuife] point de vice 

note-unhappy,* Daylight Cap tt ctt, Johns. point-de-t4ce Wax. '73, point- 

tht fortunate vnhappy] Separate device Ktly. 
line. Cap. Mai. et seq. 153. not now] now Ff, Rowe, Pope. 

150. champian] champion F^F^. not Han. 
champaign Coll. i, Wh. i. champain 

149. fortunate vnhappy daylight] Hanmer was the first to perceive that the 
letter ended with *ynhappy' and that 'daylight' is the beginning of Malvolio's 
comment ; but like all the editors from Rows to Johnson, he vitiated his text by 
reading * fortunate and happy.* Capell was the first to perceive that 'The fortu- 
nate vnhappy ' is the subscription. 

149, 150. daylight and champian] Warburton : That is, broad day and an 
open country cannot make things plainer. — Dyce : I have not retained the spelling 
of the Folio, because in Lear I, i, 65, it has ' With shadowie Forrests and with 
Champains rich'd.' — W. A. Wright: 'Champian' is the spelling of the word in 
the margin of the Authorized Version of Etekiel, xxxvii, 2. 

151. pollticke Authours] That is, authors on state craft ; so that his tongue may 
tang arguments of state. 

152. 153. point deuise] Steevens : Chaucer uses this phrase in The Romaunt 
of the Rose, 1. 1215 : 'Her nose was wrought at point devise.' i. e, with the utmost 
possible exactness. — Skeat : A shortened form of the older phrase at point demce^ 
equivalent to with great nicety or exactitude, as : ' With limmes [limbs] wrought at 
point device.' — Rom. of the Rose, 1. 830 ; a translation of Old French h point devis^ 
according to a point [of exactitude] that is devised or imagined, t . e, in the best way 
imaginable. — W. A. Wright : That is, precisely, exactly. The full phrase was 
•at point devise,* which we find in Chaucer, Cant. Tales (ed. Tyrwhitt), 1. 3689: 
•Up rist this jolly lover Absolon, And him arayeth gay, at point devise.' And 
1. 10874 : ' So painted he and kempt, at point devise, As wel his wordes, as his 
contenance.' Again in Rom, of the Rose, 1. 830 and 1. 1215. In the last-quoted 
passages there is nothing corresponding in the French Roman de la Rose. Steevens, 
by printing the word in the form ' point-de-vice,* suggested another etymology which 
appears to have no authority. Shakespeare uses ' point-device,' or ' point devise,* as 
an adjective, in the sense of ' precise,' in As You Like It, III, ii, 367 : ' You are 
rather point deuice in your accoustrements.' And in Lov^s Lab, Z. V, i, 21 : 'I 

176 TWELFE NIGHT [act ii, sc. v. 

imagination iade mee ; for euery reafon excites to this, 
that my Lady loues me. She did commend my yellow 155 
(lockings of late, fhee did praife my legge being croffe- 
garter'd, and in this (he manifefts her felfe to my loue, & 
with a kinde of iniun£lion driues mee to thefe habites of 
her liking. I thanke my ftarres, I am happy : I will bee 
ftrange, (lout, in yellow (lockings, and crofTe Gartered, 160 
euen with the fwiftne(re of putting on. loue, and my 

l$S. iniumJion'l conjunction F^F^, l^, ftocking5\ ftocking Y ^, 
Rowe i. 

abhor such fanatical phantasimes, such insociable and point-devise companions.' — 
Innes : The word is used in two other places in Shakespeare apparently in the sense of 
iuperfinf. Perhaps we should here also take it in this sense as an adjective, placing 
a comma after it. Whether it is adverb or adjective, the sense of < superfine ' rather 
than * precise ' seems to predominate in Chaucer as well as in Shakespeare. [Here, 
' superfine ' seems to me to miss the point. Malvolio is resolving that he *■ will 
be the very man ' down to the minutest particular that the letter enjoins on him. 
Halliwell quotes an example from Palsgrave : ' This shyppe is armed or decked 
poynte devyse : ceste nauirc est betrcschke en tons poynts.* p. 436. — Ed.] 

154. iade mee] That is, to play me, what Shakespeare elsewhere calls, a jade's 
trick. What the precise trick is, it is not easy to define. W. A. Wright thinks it 
means to run away with ; but this seems to me rather too vivacious for a jade. 
Schmidt (Lex,) says it means 'to make appear like a jade,' which is wide of the 
mark, but then he adds, * to make ridiculous ancl contemptible,' which is better, bat 
does not explain a jade's agency in the matter. In Much Ado^ I, i, 142, it was 
suggested that a jade's trick might mean to slip the head out of the collar. Possibly, 
this may approximate the meaning here. In effect, Malvolio says that he does not 
intend to let himself be so led on by his imagination that, when he thinks his posi- 
tion is secure, through his interpretation of the letter, he finds he has been deceiving 
himself, and that his substance is a shadow ; that, in short, the jade has slipped her 
collar and left him helpless. — Ed. 

154* 15S. for euery reason . . . kinde of iniundtion] Capell conjectured that 
we should here read : * for very reason ' and * with a kind injunction ' ; both con- 
jectures are good, but somewhat too much in the way of improving Shakespeare. 

i6o. stout] Dyce (ed. ii) : Something wrong here, it would seem. — An Anon- 
ymous critic conjectures, apud The Cambridge Shakespeare^ with great violence, 
* bestir me, strut i«,' etc. — Cartwright (p. 13) : Read proud; after reading the 
letter Malvolio says, * I will be proud.' [Malvolio is repeating the items of the letter 
which tells him to ' be opposite with a kinsman,' therefore he will be ' strange ' ; 
to be < surly with servants,' therefore he will be ' stout.' To this meaning df ' stout ' 
Schmidt (Z^jt.) gives us a parallel, with the meaning, proud ^ overbearing : *Oft 
have I seen the haughty cardinal. ... As stout and proud as he were lord of all.' — 
2 Hen, VI: I, i, 187.] 

161, 165. loue] Haluwell (Note on III, iv, 78) : In this, and in most of the 
other passages where Jove is mentioned in this comedy, the probability is that God 

ACTii. sc. v.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 177 

ftarres be praifed. Heere is yet a poftfcript. Thou canjl 162 
notchoofe but know who lam. If thou entertainjl my loue, let 
it appear e in thyfmiling , thy /miles become thee well . There- 
foreinmypre/enceJlill/mileydeeromy/weete,Iprethee, loue 165 
I thanke thee, I will fmile, I wil do euery thing that thou 
wilt haue me. Exit 

Fab. I will not giue my part of this fport for a penfi- 
on of thoufands to be paid from the Sophy. 169 

162. [Reads.] Coll. 165. deero] deere F,. dear F^F^. 

163. but know] to know Rowe i. 168. / wilt] I would Kdy conj. 
cntertainft] F^F^, Cap. Wh. i, (withdrawn.) 

Sing, ii, Ktly, Huds. erUertaineft F^ part\ patt F^. 

et cet. 

was the original word, which was altered on account of the statute of James I. 
Even in a play, it seems to me there is more impropriety in a character solemnly 
referring to a fictitious deity than in his using the natural language of thankfulness. 
Malvolio, with Puritanical sentiments, would freely use the name of the Almighty. 
The change was one frequently made. Thus, in The Four Prentices of London^ 
'in God's name,' in the first edition, is altered to < in Jove's name,' in the second. 
— Hudson : Malvolio is not a heathen ; he is rather a strait-laced sort of Christian ; 
sach a one as would be very apt to ascribe his good fortune to the fact of his being 
among ' the elect. ' So I suspect that * Jove ' was inserted by some second hand in 
compliance with the well-known statute against profanation. Halliwell prints as in 
[my text] ; and I was fully convinced it ought to be so, long before I knew he 
printed it so. [See III, iv, 78.] 

165. deero] Daniel (p. 43) : Is this a misprint for < dear, O my sweet'? [It is 
not improbable ; but its languishing tone might, possibly, impart a shade of exaggera- 
tion, which might tend to arouse suspicion. For examples like < dear my sweet,' see 
Shakespeare passim, or Abbott, § 13. — Ed.] 

169. Sophy] Steevkns : Allusion, as Dr Farmer observes, to Sir Robert Shirley 
[or Sherley] who was just returned in the character of < embassador from the Sophy.' 
He boasted of the great rewards he had received, and lived in London with the 
utmost splendor.— W. A. Wright: The title of Sophy, by which the Shah of 
Persia was most commonly known in the 1 6th and 17th centuries, was derived from 
the Safavi dynasty, founded in 1500 by Sh<h Ismail, whose descendants occupied the 
throne till 1736, when the power was seired by Nddir Sh4h. The attention of 
Englishmen had been attracted to Persia, at the beginning of the 17th century, 
by the adventures of three brothers. Sir Robert, Sir Anthony, and Sir Thomas 
Shirley, whose account of their travels and reception by the Sophy was printed 
in 1600. [Malone ( Var, 1821^ vol. ii, p. 444) gives some further particulars con- 
cerning Sir Thomas Shirley ; among them that he arrived as ambassador from the 
Sophy in 1611 ; that he and his wife (said to be a niece or sister of the Sophy) at 
this time made much noise by their lavish expenditure ; in 1607 a play on the sub- 
ject, called The Travells of Three Brothers, was written by Day, Rowley, and Wil- 
kins. See also Retrospective Review, ii, 351. Neither the ambassador's return 
in 1 611 nor the play in 1607 could have been referred to in Twelfth Night, which 


178 TWELFE NIGHT [act u, sc. v. 

To, I could marry this wench for this deuice. 170 

An. So could I too. 

To. And aske no other dowry with her, but fuch ano- 
ther ieft. 

Enter Maria. 

An. Nor I neither. 175 

Fab. Heere comes my noble gull catcher. 

To. Wilt thou fet thy foote o'my necke. 

An. Or o'mine either ? 

To. Shall I play my freedome at tray-trip, and becom 
thybondflaue? 180 

\*lo, deuice.'\ Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. 174. Enter...] After line 175, Cap. 

Cam. i, Glo. KUy, Rife, Dtn, Wh. ii. [Scene IX. Pope,+. 

i^^V^,— Wb. i, Dyce, SU. Hnds. Cam. 176. n<^U\ notable Schmidt (Lex,) 

ii. device ; Cap. et cet. conj. 

171. So"} And so Han. 177. necke,'\ neckefYl, 

172. And^ -^nd Wh. i, Hnds. 179. a/] at a FjF^. 

was acted in 1602. Malone adduced them when he supposed that the date of the 
present play was 161 7. — Ed.] 

179. tray-trip] Steevens: This is mentioned in Glapthome's Wit in a Con- 
stable ^ 1640 : < Meane time you may play at Tray-trip or cockall for blacke puddings.' 
Again : < With lanthem on stall, at trea trip we play For ale, cheese, and pudding, 
till it be day,' etc. — Tyrwhitt : The following passage might indine one to believe 
that tray-trip was the name for some game at tables or draughts. ' There is great 
danger of being taken sleepers at tray- trip, if the king sweep suddenly.' — Cecil's 
Correspondence , Lett, x, p. 1 36. Ben Jonson joins tray-trip with mum-chance: 
* Nor play with costar-mongers at mum-chance, tray-trip.' — Alchemist^ V, ii. — 
Reed : We find the following in Machiaveirs Dogge^ 1617 : < But, leaving cardes, 
lett's goe to dice awhile, To passage, treitrippe, hazarde, or mumchance. . . . And 
trippe without a treye makes had-I-wist To sitt and moume among the sleeper's 
raneke.' — Nares : An old game, undoubtedly played with dice, and probably in the 
tables. Some commentators [Hawkins, Croft] have fancied that it resembled hop- 
scotch or Scotch-hop ; but this seems to rest merely on unauthorised conjecture. It 
is joined with mum-chance^ also a game at dice ; though, perhaps, sometimes 
played with cards. [Reed's quotation from Machia veil's Dogge\ is decisive as to 
both games. Success in it depended on throwing a trois. — Halliwell : A game 
at cards, played with dice as well as with cards, the success in which chiefly depended 
upon the throwing of treys. [Dyce {^Gloss.^ accepts this defintion.] — W. A. 
Wright : It could not have been the game of tables, that is, backgammon, or 
draughts, as now played. Torriano (//. Dict,^ 1656) gives *Giocare al nove, to 
play at noven, or tray-trip, also to play at nine-holes.* There appears to be no 
ground for the assertion of Hawkins that it was a game like hop-scotch, which 
could hardly be played by watchmen at night [as in Steevens' s first quotation from] 
Glapthome's Wit in a Constable. [But in the second quotation, it will be observed 
that the watchmen put their lanthem on a stall. — Ed.] 

ACT II, SC. v.] 



An. Ifaith^or I either? 

Tob. Why^thou haft put him in fuch a dreame, that 
when the image of it leaues him^ he mufl run mad. 

Ma. Nay but fay true, do's it worke vpon him ? 

To. Like Aqua vite with a Midwife. 

Mar. If you will then fee the fruites of the fport, mark 
his firft approach before my Lady : hee will come to her 
in yellow (lockings, and 'tis a colour flie abhorres, and 
crofle garter'd, a fafhion fhee detefts : and hee will fmile 
vpon her, which will now be fo vnfuteable to her difpo- 
fition, being addifted to a melancholly, as (hee is, that it 
cannot but turn him into a notable contempt : if you wil 
fee it follow me. 

To. To the gates of Tartar, thou moft excellent diuell 
of wit. 

A?td. He make one too. Exeunt. 

Finis A6lus fecnndus 






181. /] Om. F,F^. 

185. Aqua %nte\ Aqua-vita Yl, 

191. to tf] to FjF^, Rowe, Pope. 

193. fne.'\ me, — Ff. 

194. gates of Tartar] gates Tartar 
F^. gates, Tartar, Rowe. gates of 
Tartarus Coll. MS. 

197. fecnndus] Secundi Ff. 

185. Aqua vite] Johnson : This is the old name of strong waters, [Cotgrave 
has ' Eau de Tie. Aquauite.'*'\ 

189. a fashion shee detests] Rolfe : I am not aware that any commentator 
has noted the inconsistency of Maria's assertion that cross-gartering is a fashion that 
Olivia ' detests/ and what she had written in the forged letter : < Remember who 
commended thy yellow stockings and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered ' ; which 
is confirmed by Malvolio : ' She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did 
praise my leg being cross-gartered.* Possibly, Olivia had spoken ironically, and the 
conceited steward took it as serious praise ; but more likely it is one of Shakespeare's 
inconsistencies in minor matters. [It is doubtful if credence should be placed on any 
of Malvolio' s assertions in regard to Olivia's demeanour toward him in the past. 
He was in such an exalted frame of mind that by the light of memory any absent- 
minded glance cast on him haphazard by Olivia would have been interpreted by 
him as one of absorbing devotion ; had the look been one even of annoyance, Mal- 
▼olio would have now recalled it as a struggle to hide her tender affection. — Ed.] 

191. addidted] W. A. Wright : This is now generally used in connexion with 
some bad habit, but this is a modem sense, for it is said with praise of the house of 
Stephanas (/ Cor. xvi, 15), that they had *■ addicted themselves to the ministry of the 

194. Tartar] Compare, * If that same demon . . . should with his lion gait walk 
the whole world. He might return to vasty Tartar back And tell his legions,' etc. — 
Henry V: II, ii, 123. 

1 80 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc L 

A^us Tertius , Sccena prima. 

Enter Uiola and Clawne. 2 

Vto. Saue thee Friend and thy Mufick : doft thou liue 
by thy Tabor? 

Clo. No fir, I liue by the Church. 5 

Vto. Art thou a Churchman ? 

Clo. No fuch matter fir, I do liue by the Church : For, 
I do liue at my houfe, and my houfe dooth ftand by the 
Church. 9 

A Garden. Rowe. Olivia's Gar- playing on his Tabor. Coll. iiL 

den. Pope. 4. thy'\ the Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. 

2. Enter...] Enter... meeting. Cap. Cap. Var. '73. 
Enter... with a tabor. Mai. Enter... 

I. Scsena prima] Marshall: In [Irving' s] acting-edition, this scene forms a 
continuation of the previous one and concludes Act III. The arrangement is per- 
fectly justifiable, as the events of Act II, Scenes iv. and v, and of Acts III, IV, 
and V, all take place on the same day. For stage purposes such a division of the 
Acts is preferable, as, with Olivia's declaration of love to the supposed Cesario, an 
important step in the more serious interest of the play is reached. 

4. Tabor] Capell (p. 148) : Viola's question and salute show that she meets the 
Clown playing on the tabor. [This anticipates Malone' s stage-direction. ] — Stebvkns : 
The Clown, I suppose, wilfully mistakes Viola's meaning, and answers as if he had 
been asked whether he lived by the *• sign of the tabor,' the ancient designation of 
a music shop. [This unfortunate misapprehension by Steevens of Viola's innocent 
question as to whether or not the Clown's means of livlihood were the tabor, opened 
the way to a display of learning on a subject which adds nothing to the elucidation 
of the text. Malone, Douce, and Boswell learnedly discuss the name of a tavern 
kept by Tarleton. — Ed.] — Halliwell : The tabor and pipe were used by Fools 
long before Shakespeare's time. . . . The Qown's equivoque merely turns on the 
different meanings of the particle ' by,' and there is hardly a necessity for supposing 
that he chooses to take Viola's question in the sense of an enquiry as to whether he 
lived by the sign of the tabor. — Innes : If there is any such hidden jest [as that in 
reference to an inn], which is extremely doubtful, it might rather be supposed that 
the Clown pretends to mistake Viola's pronunciation of * tabor' for * tavern.* [For 
* tabor ' see, if necessary. Much Ado, in this ed. II, iii, 15. — Ed.] 

7. 1 do] Capell, in his Various Readings^ p. 35, conjectures that this should be 
^yet I do ' ; in his Notes, p. 148, he says *■ and yet must have stood before << I " ; nor 
will the reasoning be natural, 'till these words are replaced.' [With a strong empha> 
sis on *do,* the 'reasoning' becomes < natural.' — Ed.] 

9. Church] HuTTSON (May, p. 481 ) : We learn that Feste had been < a fool 
that Lady Olivia's father took much delight in.' He was therefore a long estab* 
lished inmate of that baronial mansion, which we are to imagine Lady Olivia's 


Via. So thou maifl fay the Kings lyes by a begger, if a lo 

begger dwell neer him : or the Church (lands by thy Ta- 
bor, if thy Tabor fland by the Church. 

Clo. You haue faid fir : To fee this age : A fentence is 
but a cheu'rill gloue to a good witte, how quickely the 
wrong fide may be tumM outward. 1 5 

Vio. Nay that^s certaine : they that dally nicely with 
words, may quickely make them wanton. 17 

10. maijr\ maieft F^. 1 3. fir .] sir. Steev. 

Kings\ King Ff. age .•] age ! Ff. 

fyes\ lives Cap. conj. Var. '73, 14. che%irilt\ chet^rilVioyrt. cheverU 

Wh. Coll. ii. Hi (MS), Dycc ii, iii, Hnds. Var. '73. 

10, II. begger"] beggar F^. wittey'] wit; F^F^. 

house to be. He afterwards tells Viola, < I do live at my house and my house doth 
stand by the Church.* When Shakespeare wrote this, he was probably conceiving 
Feste as a retainer of the Lady Olivia's father, settled hard by the Church and with 
some hereditary claim to service and preferment in it, but as having missed his voca- 
tion in some way, and fallen back upon this, his real vocation as a jester, in lieu of 
the other living, greatly helped in the new walk by the clerical training he had 

10. Kings] This word is quoted, as well as ' wisemens,' in line 68, by Walker 
(Crit, i, 235) in his valuable chapter on the omission and interpolation, in the Folio, 
of the final 5. This peculiarity is so strange that Walker would be inclined to think 
that it originated in some trick in Shakespeare's handwriting were it not for the 
varying degrees of frequency with which it occurs, being comparatively rare in the 
Comedies, more frequent in the Histories, and quite common in the Tragedies. 
[This variation in frequency exonerates Shakespeare and places the peculiarity 
wholly on the compositors, where all such peculiarities in the printing of the Folio 
belong. — Ed.] 

10. lyes] Malone : That is, dwells, sojourns ; as in many other places in old 
books. — R. G. White (ed. i) : The context conclusively shows that this is a mis- 
print ; the Gown's speech, ' I do live by the Church,' requiring, of course, in Viola's, 
* So thou may'st say the King lives*; not *the King lies,* — Dycb (ed. ii) : < Lyes' 
is well enough for the sense, but the context ('live' occurring ^^r times in what 
precedes) determines it to be an error. [The short dialogue at the beginning of 
Othello, III, iv, where the joke turns on < lyes,' as equivalent both to lodge and 
to deceive, strengthens the presumption that the present text of the Folio is right. 

11, 12. Church stands by thy Tabor] Again, a double meaning. * Stand by' 
may be equivalent to uphold, to maintain. — Ed. 

14. cheu'rill] Steevens: That is, a glove made of kid leather: Chevreau^ 
French. So in Rom, &* Jul. II, iv, 87 : * O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches 
from an inch narrow to an ell broad.' [It is due to this stretching quality that the 
glove can be so quickly turned wrong side outward. — Ed.] 

16, 17. dally nicely . . . wanton] That is, those who play ingeniously with 
words may quickly give them a double meaning. Barnett says that < the allusion 
is still to the playfulness of the kid.* 

1 82 TWELFE NIGHT [ACT in, sc. L 

Clo. I would therefore my filler had had no name Sir. i8 

Vio, Why man ? 

Clo. Why fir, her names a word, and to dallie with 20 

that word, might make my fifler wanton : But indeede, 
words are very Rafcals, fince bonds difgracM them. 

Vio, Thy reafon man ? 

Clo. Troth fir, I can yeeld you none without wordes, 
and wordes are growne fo falfe, I am loath to proue rea- 25 

fon with them. 

Vio. I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and car'ft for 

CZt?.Not fo fir, I do care for fomething:but in my con- 
fcience fir, I do not care for you : if that be to care for no- 30 

thing fir, I would it would make you inuifible. 

Uio. Art not thou the Lady Oliuids foole? 32 

18. had had ^ hadY^^y Rowe, Pope, 32. not thou\ thou not Steev. (*oor- 

Han. reeled in MS' ap. Cam.) 

20. namei\ nam^s Ff. 

22. words are very Rascals, since bonds disg^c'd them] Hudson : This 
probably alludes to an order of the Privy Council, June, 1600, laying very severe 
restrictions on the Poet's art. The order, besides that it allowed only two houses 
to be used for stage-plays in the city and suburbs, interdicted those two from play- 
ing at all during Lent, or in any time of great sickness, and also limited them to 
twice a week at all other times. If rigidly enforced it would have amounted almost 
to a total suppression of play-houses. As the penalty was imprisonment, it might 
well be said that words were disgraced by bonds. — Deighton : A play upon words 
in the sense of (i) since they have been disgraced by being pat into bonds (into con- 
finement) and (2) since they were used in money bonds. Hudson's reference to the 
Privy Council's order is a very forced meaning to put upon the words. — Chambers's 
Ed. (1895) : A quibble upon bonds^ in the sense of limits and of money bonds or 
contracts to pay. — Verity (p. vii) : It is thought that this passage alludes to certain 
restrictions on the stage ordered by the Privy Council in 1600 and 1601. [(Foot* 
note) In view of the] Order of the Council in June 1600, [and in view of the] fur- 
ther steps taken by the Council in the next year against the stage. Dramatists might 
well complain that 'bonds' were laid upon them. — Cholmei.ey : ' Since bonds dis- 
graced them ' by using them in the trickeries of business. Or it may refer to the 
restrictions laid upon acting by the Privy Council. [I have given every explanation 
that I can find of this dark passage ; and I confess that none of them affords me a 
ray of light I cannot see how words are disgraced by being used in contracts, nor 
can I see how they become rascals by restrictions placed upon Theatres. The only 
explanation I can offer, and I fear it is quite as far fetched as the others, is that words 
are placed in bonds when they are accurately defined. To have strict, unalterable 
meanings attached to words could not but have been offensive to Feste, whose 
delight, and even profession, it was to be a 'corrupter of words.' — Ed.] 

ACT III. sc. i.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 1 83 

Clo. No indeed fir, the Lady Oliuia has no folly, fliee 33 

will keepe no foole fir, till flie be married, and fooles are 
as like husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Huf- 35 

bands the bigger, I am indeede not her foole, but hir cor- 
rupter of words. 

Vio. I faw thee late at the Count Orjimfs. 

Clo, Foolery fir, does walke aboul the Orbe like the 
Sun, it ihines euery where. I would be forry fir, but the 40 

Foole ihould be as oft with your Mafter, as with my Mi- 
ftris : I thinke I faw your wifedome there. 

Vio. Nay, and thou paffe vpon me. He no more with 43 

35. like] like to Ktly. 38. Count] Duke Rowe, + , Var. '73. 
Pilchers] pilchards Cap. et seq. 39. does] he does Rowe i. 

are] Om. Ktly conj. 39, 40. Orbe ... Sun^] orb ... sun ; 

35> 36- husbatuis] F,. husband* s Theob. +. orb,... sun; Cap. orb;,,. 

FjF^. sun, Dyce, Huds. 

36. hir] F,. 43. and] an Pope et seq. 

35. Pilchers] R. G. White (ed. i) : The pilchard is, I believe, unknown in 
this country. It is so like the herring that, according to Lord Teig^mouth, they 
can only be distinguished by the ability of the pilchard to furnish the fat in which it 
can be fried, which the herring lacks. — ^W. A. Wright : The spelling raried even 
in Shakespeare's time. In Minsheu's Spanish Diet., iS99t we find, 'Sardina, a 
little pilchard, a sardine*; and also, <a Pilcher, vide Sardina.* So, again, in 
Florio's Worlde of Wordes, 1598, 'Sardella, a little pickled or salt fish like an 
anchoua, a sprat or a pilcher, called a sardell or sardine'; while in his Italian 
Diet., 1611, and in Cotgrave, of the same date, the spelling is *■ pilchard.' 

39, 40. Orbe . . . Sun,] I think Dyce's punctuation doubtful. 

40. I would be sorry] Abbott (§331, p. 234) : It must be confessed there 
seems little reason here for ' would.' Inasmuch, however, as the Fool is speaking 
of something that depends upon himself, t. e. his presence at the Count's court, it 
may perhaps be explained as, 'I would not willingly do anything to prevent,' etc., 
just as we can say < I would be loth to offend him,' in confusion between < I should 
be loth to offend him,' and ' I would not willingly,' or * I would rather not, offend 
him.' Deighton pronounces this explanation by Abbott, ' somewhat subtle'; and 
in Much Ado, II, iii, 114, where Abbott gives a similar explanation of <I would 
have thought,' etc., W. A. Wright denies it altogether, and says 'would' is here 
' used for the conditional of should.* Inasmuch as a repeated action is spoken of, 
namely, that the Fool was to be with Orsino as often as with Olivia, may it not be 
that 'would' is here used in the sense of 'it would be my custom to be sorry' or 
• I would always be sorry *? just as when Othello says (I, iii, 170, of this ed.) of 
Desdemona, ' But still the house Affaires would draw her hence,' i. e. were accus* 
tomed to draw her hence. — Ed. 

40. but] W. A- Wright : * But ' is here equivalent io if ., . not. 

42. 3fOur wisedome] A sarcastic perversion of ' your worship.' 

43. passe vpon] W. A. Wright : The Clown, being by profession a corrupter 
of words, tried some of his word fencing upon Viola ; and to this she seems to refer 

1 84 TWELFE NIGHT [act m, sc. L 

thee* Hold there^s expences for thee. 

do. Now loue in his next commodity of hayre, fend 45 

thee a beard. 

Vio, By my troth He tell thee , I am almoft ficke for 
one^ though I would not haue it grow on my chinne . Is 
thy Lady within ? 

Clo Would not a paire of thefe haue bred fir ? 50 

Vio. Yes being kept together, and put to vfe. 

Clol would play Lord Pandarus diPhrygia fir, to bring 
a Crejfida to this Troylus. 

Vio. I vnderftand you fir, tis well begg'd. 54 

44. thee.'\ F,. Rife, Wh. ii. 

[Gives him a piece of money. 54. [Giving him more money. ColL 

Han. ii (MS). 
48. ihimgh... chinne] [Aside.] Cam. 

when she uses the expression * pass upon * ; to pass signifying to make a pass in 
fencing, and such word-play being elsewhere called * a quick venue of wit ' {^Lcv^s 
Lab. Z. V, i, 62). But to * pass upon * had also the meaning, < to impose on, plaj 
the fool with,' as in V, i, 371, and it may be so here. 

44. there's expences] Badham (p. 287) : As the Qown has not been laying 
out money for Viola, it is impossible he should receive ' expenses ' from her, even 
supposing such a circumstance could justify so strange an expression. It is probable 
that he would be rewarded with the same coin he had already got from the two 
knights, and that Viola says to him : < Hold ; here's sixpence for thee.' [' Expenses ' 
here means not money that has been spent, but money that is to be spent] 

45. commodity] W. A. Wright : The modem mercantile phrase would prob- 
ably be 'cargo' or 'consignment.' See / Hen. IV: I, ii, 93 : *I would to God 
thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought' And the 
old play of Sir Thomas More (ed. Dyce), p. 63 : ' What will he be by that time he 
comes to the commoditie of a bearde ?' 

50. haue bred] M alone : I believe our author wrote * have breed.* The Clown 
is not speaking of what a pair might have done, but what they may do hereafter in 
his possession ; and therefore covertly solicits another piece from Viola. Compare, 
Ven, 6f* Ad, 768 : ' Foul- cankering rust the hidden treasure frets. But gold, that's 

put to use, more gold begets.* [See in Mer. of Ven, I, iii, 98, Shylock*8 reply to 
Anthonio's question, Ms your gold and siluer Ewes and Rams?' ' I cannot tell, I 
make it breede as fast' And again, Anthonio says ( Ibid. 137), ' when did friendship 
take A breede of barraine mettall of his friend?' Possibly, Malone intended to 
say breed, not have breed. Hudson adopted breed in his text No change is 
needed. The Clown says, in effect, ' Had you given me a pair would they not 
have bred?'] 

51. put to vse] 'Use' is here interest; as in Much Ado, II, i, 267, Beatrice, 
speaking of Benedick's heart, says ' hee lent it me a while, and I gave him vse for 
it, a double heart for a single one.' See, also, Sonnet, vi, 5 : ' That use is not for- 
bidden usury Which happies those that pay the willing loan.' Again, in the quotation 
from Ven. &* Ad. in the preceding note : ' gold that's put to use.' 

ACTin. sc.i.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 185 

do. The matter I hope is not great fir; begging, but a 55 

begger : CreJJida was a begger. My Lady is within fir. I 
will confter to them whence you come, who you are, and 
what you would are out of my welkin, I might fay Ele- 
ment, but the word is ouerwome. exit 59 

55- *<§3rw^»] f>fggi*^ Pope. Wh. ii. 

56. b€gger\ beggar FjF^. 57. come,'\ come; Rowe ii ct seq. 

57. confter] construe Steev. Var. 58. are'\ is Ff, Rowe, + , Var. '73, 
Coll. Hal. Dyce, Cam. Sta. Rife, Huds. '78, Ran. 

55. 56. begging, but a begger] In his preceding speech, Feste has begged for 
a Cressida, who was, he now goes on to say, a begger. 

56. Cressida was a begger] Theobald (ed. i) : The Poet in this circumstance 
undoubtedly had his eye on Chaucer's Testament of Cresseid. Cupid, to revenge 
her profanation against his Deity, calls in the Planetary gods to assist in his Ten- 
geance. They instantly turn her mirth into melancholy, her health into sickness, 
her beauty into deformity, and in the end pronounce this sentence upon her : * This 
sail thow go begging fra hous to hous. With cop and clapper lyke ane lazarous.' 
[Henryson's Works^ ed. Laing, p. 87, as quoted by W. A. Wright.] Capell 
(p. 148) quotes from the same source : * And greit penuritie Thow suffer sail, and 
as ane begger die.'— 0^. cit. p. 86.— W. A. Wright : The Testament of Cresseid^ 
once attributed to Chaucer, was really the work of Robert Henryson. Another 
reminiscence of it occurs in Hen. IV: II, i, 80 : *The lazar kite of Cressid's kind.' 

57. conster] As far as spelling is concerned, Shakespeare's printers used 

* conster ' quite as often as construe. To be exact, *■ conster ' (including consture 
and constured ) is so spelled in the Folios and Quartos eight times, and construe^ 
seven times. (See note on Othello^ IV, i, 118, of this ed., where the references are 
given.) It is really a matter of indifference which spelling is adopted. In the 
dramatists of Shakespeare's time, * conster' is, I think, the commoner form. Dyce 
(Remarks^ p. 76) commends Knight for adhering to * conster ' in this passage, and yet 
when Dyce himself came to select his own text he adopted construe^ with the note 
that <had *< conster" been a mere vulgarism, I should have retained it, as perhaps 
not inappropriate in the mouth of the Clown ; but it is nothing more than a variety 
of spelling.' Dyce gives an instance of the use of *■ conster' as late even as Pope, 
who, in a Letter to the Duchess of Hamilton {Add. to Works , 1776, ii, 2), writes, 

* Lord William will conster this Latine, if you send it to Thistleworth.' In my copy 
of Dyce's Remarks^ Lettsom has written in the margin : *The word ^2& pronounced 
conster among schoolboys in the early part of this century.' The meaning of * con- 
ster' is here, of course, to explain, unfold. — Ed. 

57. them] Hanmer changed this to her, to make it correspond to « My Lady,' 
but Feste was thinking, of course, of Olivia and her gentlewoman, Maria, who both 
enter shortly afterward. — Ed. 

58, 59. Element . . . ouer-wome] See I, i, 31, and III, iv, 127. — W. A. 
Wright: 'Element' being sometimes used for sky, the Gown makes 'welkin' 
synonymous with it to avoid the more familiar word. — R. W. Boodle (Shakespear- 
iana, March, 1887, iv, 116) : In Satiro-mastix [which Small dates in i6oi» there- 
fore written, possibly, earlier than Twelfth Night. — Ed.] Dekker repeatedly puts 
the obnoxious [word * element '] in the month of Horace (Ben Jonson). Speaking 

1 86 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. L 

Vio. This fellow is wife enough to play the foole^ 60 

And to do that well, craues a kinde of wit : 
He muft obferue their mood on whom he iefts, 
The quality of perfons, and the time : 
And like the Haggard, checke at euery Feather 64 

60. fellow is\ fellaufi Steev. Var. 64. And'\ Not Johns, conj. Ran. 

Coll. Hal. Sing. Sta. KUy, Hads. CoU. ii, iii (MS), Sing. Hal. Dycc, 

63. of perfoH5\ of the persons Rowe, Rife, Huds. Nor Harness. And not 
+ , Var. *73, '78, Ran. Var. '85. Ktly. 

of Captain Tucca, he says, * *tis out of his element to traduce me ; I am too well 
ranked, Asinius, to be stabbed with his dudgeon wiL' (p. 195, ed. Pearson). 
Asinius, Horace's friend, also uses the expression as a favourite one with 'his 
ningle* (f. e. Horace) : 'Marry, for reading my book, I'll take my death upon 't 
(as my ningle says) 'tis out of my element.' (p. 196). Lastly, the words are among 
die things that Horace is forced to abjure : ' Sir Vaughan, Thirdly, and last of all 
saving one, when your plays are misliked at Court, you shall not . . . say you are glad 
you write out of the courtiers' element. Tucca, Let the element alune, 'tis out of 
thy reach.' If, as seems probable enough, Shakespeare is alluding in [the present 
passage] to the ridicule bestowed upon the expression in Sattro-mastix, additional 
point is given to the Clown's remark. 

60, 61. play the foole . . . craues a kinde of wit] Feis (p. 159) says that 
there is a reference to this passage in the following from Jonson's Poetaster, IV, iii : 
' I have read in a book that to play the fool wisely is high wisdom.' The reference 
is extremely doubtful. TAe Poetaster was produced, says Gifford, in 1 601, the same 
year which witnessed the production of Twelfth Night, unless the latter was per- 
formed for the first time, which no one has supposed, at the Readers' Feast in the 
Middle Temple. Jonson could not use the words ' read in a book ' when in truth it 
had been only heard on the stage. Possibly, the book to which Jonson refers is 
Guazzo's Civile Conuersation, translated by 'G. pettie' and published in 1586, 
wherein, on p. 74, is the following: <To plaie the foole well, it behooueth a man 
first to be wise.' — Ed. 

64. And like the Haggard] Johnson : The meaning may be that he must catch 
every opportunity, as the wild hawk strikes every bird. But perhaps it might be 
read more properly, ^Not like the haggard.' He must choose persons and times, 
and observe tempers ; he must fly at proper game, like the trained hawk, and not 
fly at large like the unreclaimed ' haggard ' to seize all that comes in his way. [This 
emendation is pronounced 'indispensable' by Dyce; * obvious* by Collier; 
* essential' by Halliwell.] — W. A. Wright: The text, however, appears to be 
right. It is part of the fool's wisdom to make a jest of everything, because in that 
case his jests will not appear directed at any particular person. [To the same effect, 
Innes. Dr Johnson's interpretation of this passage erred, I think, in sup]x>sing 
that the two clauses, viz. : the regard to moods and the checking at every feather, are 
opposed to each other, instead of being supplemental. A Fool must have tact, but 
without a sense of humour he will have nothing wherewith to display tact. His 
sense of humour must reveal jests to him in every incident of life, there is not a 
feather that he must not check at. But to see a jest is one thing, to bring it forth 
with discrimination is another and a very different thing. Dr Johnson seems to 

ACT III, SC. i.] 



That comes before his eye. This isa praflice^ 

As full of labour as a Wife-mans Art : 

For folly that he wifely fliewes, is fit ; 

But wifemens folly falne, quite taint their wit. 



65. tftf] F,. 

66. Wi/e-mans\ wise matCs Han. 
Cap. et seq. 

68. wi/enuns folly falne, quite lain/'] 
Wife mens folly falne, quite taint F^. 
wife mens folly fain, quite taint F F^, 
Rowe i. wise mens folly falPn, quite 
taints Rowe ii, Pope, Johns. Var. '73, 
*78, *85. vrise men* s, folly fair n, quite 

taints Theob. wise men^s folly sheivn, 
quite taints Han. Wb. Rife, Huds. wise 
men's folly-fall* n, quite taints Warb. 
wise men, folly faWn, quite taint Ran. 
wise men's folly, fallen, quite taints 
Mai. Hal. wise men* s folly fall* n quite 
taints Coll. wise men, folly-fain, quite 
taint Cap. ef cet. wise men, folly- 
-blaum, quite taint Anon. ap. Cam. 

think that to check at every feather means to strike at every one. It rather means, 
I think, that materials for jests must be gathered from every possible source, every- 
thing mirthful must be stored to be mellowed on occasion ; and this practice of col- 
lecting materials, Viola goes on to say, is as full of labour as a Wiseman's art Over 
and above all, a Fool must have address, and know when and where and at whom 
to level his shafts, and he must gather a sheaf of shafts by checking, like the 
haggard, at every feather he sees. — Ed.] 

64. Haggard] Madden (p. 147, etc.) : You may train your falcon in either of 
two ways. You may take from the eyrie the nestling or eyess, rearing and making 
it to your use from its earliest days. Or you may capture a full-grown wild hawk, 
after she has been taught to fare for herself by the sternest of taskmasters for man or 
bird — hunger. The lessons learned in this school will not be forgotten, and the 
wild hawk or haggard, reclaimed and manned, has learned somewhat to which the 
eyess can never attain. ... If you would have a hawk at once high-spirited, loving, 
and tractable, jrou must man and train a haggard ; that is to say. a wild hawk which 
has lived and fared at liberty until she has moulted for the first time and has assumed 
her adult plumage. On this point all the masters of falconry are of one mind. . . . 
The haggard falcon that has never learned constancy to her legitimate pursuit will 
' check,' or change the quarry at which she is flown for any magpie or crow that 
fortune may throw in her way. < The peregrine seems often to strike down birds for 
hb amusement,' says Mr St. John, writing of the male haggard : * I have seen one 
kix>ck down and kill two rooks who were unlucky enough to cross his flight, without 
taking the trouble to look at them after they fell.' 

64. checke] See II, v, 109. 

67. folly that he wisely shewes] Badham (p. 273) : I have no doubt that we 
should read : * For he that folly wisely shows is fit ' ; ». e. he that wisely shows folly 
is a skilful man. 

68. wisemens folly falne, quite taint] In 1729 Theobald wrote to War- 
burton : * I read and point thus : ** But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit." ' 
But when he came to print his edition four years later, he unfortunately deserted this 
excellent reading, and did not even allude to it. In 1761 (probably) Capell's text 
reads as Theobald, in his private letter, had proposed to Warburton it should be read ; 
but of this Capell was, of course, entirely ignorant. In his Notes, which appeared 
in 1780, he has the following (p. 148) in reference to the present line : 'The single 
error of printers was their converting a comma [which should follow " wisemen"] 

1 88 TWELFE NIGHT [act ill, sc. i. 

Enter Sir Toby and Andrew. 
To. Saue you Gentleman. 70 

Uio. And you fir. 
And, Dieu vou guard Monjieur. 72 

Scene II. Pope, + . 72,74. And.] Sir Tob. Theob. + , 

69. Andrew.] Sir Andrew. Rowe. Var. '73, '78, Ran. Var. '85. 

70. To.]SirAnd. Theob. + ,Var. *73, 72. vou guard] vous guard Rowe. 
'78, Ran. Var. '85. vous guarde Pope, vous garde Var. '73. 

into an s ; the present copy restores it ; and (with it) a sense sufficiently clear, under 
this restriction, that ''taint'* is — ^taint it in man's opinion, call their wit into ques- 
tion.' In the meantime, in the Variorum of 1778, Tyrwhitt proposed the same 
reading which is to be found in Capell's text Several years before, in the 
Variorum of 1773, JoHNSON, who adhered to Pope's text, gave the following 
explanation : * The folly which he shews with proper adaptation to persons and 
times is Jit, has its propriety, and therefore produces no censure ; but the folly of 
wise men, when it falls or happens, taints their wit, destroys the reputation of their 
judgement.' This is a good explanation of a text which might be improved. 
Indeed, the general meaning of the passage is obvious ; the difficulty, as in many 
and many another phrase, is merely to harmonise, with the least possible change, 
this meaning and the grammatical construction. — Heath (p. 192) : I suppose < folly- 
fall' n,' in one word, is an error of the printer, as it destroys the construction, by 
depriving it of a substantive. The sense is. But wise men's folly, when it is once 
fallen into extravagance, overpowers their discretion. — R. G. White (ed. i) justifies 
his adoption of Hanmer's *■ folly shewn,* in the remark that * the antithesis is plainly 
between the folly which the fool shows and that which the wise men show. The 
former is fit, f. e, becoming ; but the latter, being unfit, t. e, unbecoming, quite taints 
their wit, i. e, intelligence.' There is one point in favour of Hanmer's reading, to 
which attention was called by M. Mason (p. II7), namely, that the use of 

* shewes ' in the preceding line seems almost to demand, for the sake of complete 
antithesis, the use of shewn in the present line. Capell's text is to me the best 
For the final s in ' wisemens,' see Walker's note on * lies,' in line 10 of the present 
Scene. — Ed. 

70, 72. To. . . . And.] Theobald : I have ventured to make the two Knights 
change speeches [see Text, Notes'] in this dialogue with Viola ; and, I think, not 
without good reason. It were a preposterous foi^etfulness in the Poet, and out of 
all probability, to make Sir Andrew not only speak French, but understand what is 
said to him in it, who in the First Act did not know the English of < Pouiquoi.,' — 
Capell (Notes, p. 148) : What passes within very few lines might have taught 
[Theobald] that [the French] are words the Knight had got * ready ' (see line 72) 
instructed by his Sir Toby ; and, at III, iv, 218, it had been further learnt by him, 
had he been so dispos'd, that Sir Toby's form of saluting is in the words which he 
takes from him. — Malone : If we are to believe Sir Toby, Sir Andrew could 

* speak three or four languages word for word without book.' [The four words of 
salutation are Sir Andrew's entire stock of colloquial French ; when Viola replies to 
him in the same, he is out of his depth and has to respond in English, after catching 
the one word, * serviteur.' — Ed.] 

ACTHi.sci.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 189 

Via, Et vouz oufie vq/lre feruiture. 73 

An. I hope fir, you are, and I am yours. 

To, Will you incounter the houfe, my Neece is defi- 75 

rous you fhould enter, if your trade be to her. 

Vio. I am bound to your Neece fir, I meane (he is the 
lift of my voyage. 

To, Tafte your legges fir, put them to motion. 

Via, My legges do better vnderftand me fir, then I vn- 80 

derftand what you meane by bidding me tafte my legs. 

To, I meane to go fir, to enter. 

Vio, I will anfwer you with gate and entrance, but we 
are preuented. 

Enter Oliuia and Gentlewoman, 85 

Moft excellent accomplifti'd Lady, the heauens raine O- 
dours on you. 87 

73. vouz oofie] vouz anfie Ff. vom '73, '78, Ran. Var. '85. 

auxi Rowe. vous aussi Pope. 75. incounter\ encounter Rowe. 

▼oftre feniiture] F^. voftre fcrvi- ^ou/e^'] house f Theob. ct seq. 

tenre FJP^. vostre servUur Rowe i. 82. go'\ go in Ktly. 

vostre serviteur Rowe ii. 83. gate'] gaiie ]o\ms, 

75y 76. To. IVillt etc] Continnatioii 85. Gentlewoman] Maria. Rowe. 
of preceding speech, Theob. + , Var. 

75. incounter] It has been supposed that the elevated language, which continues 
in this scene until Viola and Olivia are alone together, is in ridicule of euphuism, but 
I doubt it. Here, of course, it is purposely used by Sir Toby in order to turn Viola 
into ridicule, but she returns as good as she gets. — Ed. 

76. trade] Boswell : That is, business or employment of any kind. Thus, in 
Hamlet^ III, ii, 346 : *■ Have yon any further trade with us ?' 

77. bound] See II, i, 10. 

78. list] Johnson : That is, bound, limit, farthest point 

79. Taste] Steevens : Thus in Chapman's Odyssey , Bk. 21st : < He now began 
To taste the bow, the sharp shaft took, tugg'd hard.' [line 211, ed. Hooper, who, in 
a footnote, says : * Taste, — ^The old French verb taster (derived from the Teut 
tastien) was to handle, feel, touch, to try by the touch.' See / Hen, IV: IV, i, 1 19 : 
'Let me taste my horse.' Compare also, 'taste their valour,' III, iv, 243, of the 
present play. — Halliwell, after giving many examples of ' taste ' in the sense of 
test^ feeling, etc., makes the remarkable suggestion that 'Sir Toby is perhaps ridi- 
culing the effeminate appearance of Viola, and tells her to taste her legs, they are so 
tender and delicate.' — Ed.] 

80. vnderstand] That is, stand under. 

84* preuented] Steevens : That is, anticipated. So, in Psalm cxix, 148 : 
' Mine eyes prevent the night-watches.' Hamlet^ II, ii, 305 : < so shall my antici- 
pation prevent jronr discovery.' 

86, etc. Most excellent, etc] The dialogue between Viola and Olivia, when 
they are alone, is in verse. Walker (Crit, i> 18) thinks that the verse begins here. 

IQO TWRLFE NIGHT [act in, sc. L 

And. That youth's a rare Courtier, raine odours, wel. 88 

Vio. My matter hath no voice Lady, but to your owne 
mod pregnant and vouchfafed eare. 90 

AniL Odours, pregnant, and vouchfafed : He get 'em 
all three already. 

OL Let the Garden doore be (hut, and leaiie mee to 
my hearing. Giue me your hand fir. 94 

88, 91. [Aside.] Cap. Dyce ii, iii. '21, Knt, Coll, i, u, Wh. Dyce i, Cam. 

88. odours^ wel.'\ Ff. odours f well. Rife, ready F^F^ ct cet 

Pope, + . odours ! well, Rowe et cet. 92. [Writing in his table-book. Coll. 

(subs.) ii (MS). 

91. Odours.., vouchfafed'\ As quota- 94. [Exeunt Sir T, Sir A, and Maria, 
tions, Cap. Rowe et seq. 

92. already^ F,. all ready Mai. Var. Scene III. Pope, + . 

and proposes to divide the lines : * Most excellent-accomplish'd lady, th* heavens Rain 
odours on you ! . . . My matter hath no voice, lady, but to Your own most pregnant 
and vouchsafed ear.* It can do no harm thus to divide the lines for the sake of the eye, 
— ^for the ear it is a matter of indifference. Walker's hyphen between 'excellent' 
and 'accomplished' is well placed. — Ed. 

88. raine odours,] I am not sure that, in place of this comma. Pope's interroga- 
tion mark is not better than Rowe's exclamation. — Ed. 

90. pregnant] See II, ii, 30. 

92. all three already] M alone judiciously changed < already ' into *• all ready,' 
with the remark that < the repetition of the word all is not improper in the mouth 
of Sir Andrew.' — The Cowden-Clarkes : We have sometimes thought that the 
Folio misprinted 'I'll get' for rve got, because it gives 'already' instead of * all 
ready.' [Sir Andrew desires to have them all ready for future use in conversation. 

93. Let . . . shut] Capell (p. 148), in the belief that this is a line of verse, con- 
jectured that it should read : ' Maria, let the garden door,' etc. 

94. Giue me your hand sir] To understand the scene which now follows 
between Olivia and Viola, we must bear in mind that this is only the second time 
that Olivia has seen the lovely Page, and that since the first interview she has been 
' much out of quiet,' brooding over the ' enchantment ' Viola had wrought, and 
growing more and more deeply in love, until at last, in imagination, Viola is become 
the god of her idolatry, and she the humble worshipper at Viola's feet. It is 
almost with timidity that she asks to touch Viola's hand, and when Viola, highly 
resolved to discourage the passion of Olivia, which she had detected, coldly offers only 
her ' duty and humble service,' Olivia could interpret the action only as springing 
from exalted rank, and at once asks Viola's name. When Viola replies, 'Cesario 
is your servant's name,^ this was an inversion of their position which Olivia at once 
resented with the reply, * 'Twas never merry world since lowly feigning was termed 
compliment,' Viola ought not to pretend, out of mere compliment, to be inferior to 
her ; Cesario was servant to the Duke (and a Duke's servants might be of high 
rank), but not to her ; in Olivia's imagination Viola was enthroned her lord and 
master. This, I think, explains the opening of the dialogue. — Ed. 

ACT III, sc. l] or, what you will 191 

Uio. My dutie Madam^ and moft humble feruice 95 

OL What is your name ? 

Vio. Cefario is your feruants name, faire Princeffe. 

OL My feruant fir ? Twas neuer merry world, 
Since lowly feigning was call'd complement : 
y^are feruant to the Count Orjino youth. lOO 

Vio. And he is yours, and his muft needs be yours : 
your feruants feruant, is your feruant Madam. 

OL For him, I thinke not on him : for his thoughts, 
Would they were blankes, rather then filPd with me. 

Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts 105 

On his behalfe. 

OL O by your leaue I pray you. 
I bad you neuer fpeake againe of him ; 
But would you vndertake another fuite 

I had rather heare you, to folicit that, no 

Then Muficke from the fpheares. 

^l, feruice\ feruice, Yi, \^, behalf e,'\ Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. 

100. yar^] Ff, Rowe, + . yotire Cam. Ktly, Rife, Wh. ii. behalf:-^ 

Cap. Coll. Wh. Dyce, Cam. Sta. Rife. Cap. et cet. (subs.) 
you are Var. '73 et cet 107. you,"] you; Rowe et »eq. 

feruanf] fervaut F^. 109. fuite'\ F,. fuitt F^F^. suit^ 

Count\ Duke Rowe, + . Rowe et seq. 
loi. his\ he Theob. ii (misprint?) 10. I had'\ Fd Pope, + . 

Waib. / Warb. MS, conj. (iV. 6* Qu. thai] That Theob. Waib. 

VIII, iii, 142). 

95. seruice] The lack of a period after this word in the Folio is, I think, merely 
accidental. In my copy there is a faint mark, as of an inverted type. See I, iii, 52, 
where the same omission occurs. 

98. 'Twas neuer merry world] This phrase occurs again in Afeas, for Meas. 
Ill, ii, 6, and in ^ Hen. VI: iv, ii, 9. For the omission of the article both here 
and in III, iii, 33 ('jrou slew great number*), see Abbott, §84, p. 60. 

100. y'are] Now-a-days we do not slur our personality, and, therefore, say 

103. For . . . for] For other examples where ' for * is loosely used for as regards , 
see Abbott, § 149, p. 100. 

no. heare you, to solicit] For this grammatical form, see I, ▼, 299. 

III. Musicke from the spheares] See Plato's Republic (Book x, chap. 14) 
where the spheres, wherein the fixed stars and the planets roll, are represented as 
eight in number, and are like casks, fitted one within another ; on each sphere sits a 
Siren, and when the spheres are set in motion by the distaff of Necessity the Sirens 
sing, each one note ; from the heavenly harmony thus produced comes < the music 
of the Spheres.* See Mer. of Ven. V, i, 74, of this ed. — Ed. — ^W. A. Wright : 
The passage in Milton's Arcades^ 63-73> is directly taken from [the passage just 
cited in Plato's Republic], Milton himself wrote an academical Essay^ De Sph^tra- 

192 TWELFE NIGHT [act lU, sc L 

Vio. Deere Lady. II2 

OL Giue me leaue^ befeech you : I did fend^ 
After the laft enchantment you did heare^ 

A Ring in chace of you. So did I abufe 115 

My felfe, my feruant, and I feare me you : 
Vnder your hard conftru6lion muft I fit, 
To force that on you in a (hamefull cunning 
Which you knew none of yours. What might you think? 119 

112. Deere\ O dearest Han. (hearYjP^^ Rowe, Pope, Theob. en- 
Lady."] lady^ — Theob. et seq. chantment (you did hear) Han. Johns. 

113. Giue] Nay, give Cap. Var. '73, '78, *85. enchantment you did 
befeech] F,, Knt, Hal. Dyce, here Thirlby, Warb. et cet 

Cam. Sta. Rife, Wh. ii. ^beseech Mai. 115. chace] chafe Y ^. 

Var. *2I, Coll. I befeech Y^^ et cet. I16. me] me, YjF^. 

1 14. enchantment you did heare] Yi 

rum ConcentUf which is printed among his prose works. See also Paradise Last, 
V, 625. 

113. beseech you] It is hardly worth while to call attention to the saperflaons / 
which was prefixed by the Second Folio. Even Malone's apostrophe is as needless 
as would be apostrophes in the phrase good-bye, 

114. enchantment you did] For other examples of do used transitiTely, see 
Abbott, § 303, p. 215. Again, V, i, 146. 

1 14. you did heare] The Text. Notes reveal the vitality possessed by this mis- 
print of * heare ' for here. None of the editors who followed the Folio voachsafed 
any explanation, but when Warburton contemptuously called * hear ' * nonsense ' 
and emended it to here, Dr Johnson winced, and said bluntly: 'The present 
reading [hear] is no more nonsense than the emendation,' and as long as Dr John- 
son lived, ' hear * kept its place in the text of the Variorums, Of Warburton' s 
emendation, M. Mason (p. 118) observed that 'there is not perhaps a passage in 
Shakespeare where so great an improvement of sense is gained by changing a single 
letter.* [This change of • hear * to here was proposed by Thirlby in a letter to Theo- 
bald (Nichols, Iliust, ii, 226) dated 7 May, 1729 ; but so little attention did 
Theobald bestow on it that, in December of the same year, he wrote to Warburton 
that < unless the punctuation were wrong * he did not understand the passage. There 
is no evidence that Warburton had ever seen Thirlby* s letter. — Ed.] 

115. abuse] That is, beguile, impose upon. See V, i, 22: 'by my friends I am 
abused.* So also Macbeth, II, i, 50: 'and wicked dreams abuse The curtain*d 
sleep * ; and Hamlet, II, ii, 579 : < the devil . . . Out of my weakness and my melan- 
choly Abuses me to damn me * ; and Lear, when awaking from his trance, ' I am 
mightily abused,' IV, vii, 53. 

1 18. To force] For other examples of the gerundive use of the infinitive, see 
Abbott, § 356, p. 256. 

118. shamefull] Collier (ed. ii) : <In a shame-fac'd cunning,' says the MS 
Corrector ; but Olivia means that the artifice to which she had resorted was full 
of shame, and put her to the blush upon reflection. 

119. might] For other examples, where 'might' is equivalent to could, see 
Abbott, § 312, p. 221. 

ACTiu.sci.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 193 

Haue you not fet mine Honor at the flake, 120 

And baited it with all thVnmuzled thoughts 
That tyrannous heart can think^To one of your receiuing 
Enough is (hewne, a Cipreffe, not a bofome, 123 

121. th^vnmuzUd^ the unmuzzVd 123. Ciprejfe\ F,Fj. Ciprefs F^. 
Cap. Var. '73, '78, Dyce, Cam. Sta. cypress Rowe, Pope, Han. Cam. Glo. 
Rife, Wh. ii. Rife, Dtn, Wh. ii. Cyprus Theob. et 

122. receiuing\ conceiving Mason. cet. 

123. Jhewnei'\ shewn ; Rowe et seq. 

120, etc stake . . . baited • • . vnmozled] Metaphors taken from the Bear- 

122. That tyrannous . . . your receiuing] A line of unmanageable scansion, 
as it stands. Hanmer, the only editor except Hudson who has attempted a remedy, 
reads *To your receiying,' omitting * one oV\ but this is only a partial recovery, not 

a cure. Walker (Crit, iii, 86) proposes to arrange as follows: < To one of 

your receiving | Enough is shown ; | A dprus, not a bosom, hides my heart : | So 
let me hear you speak. I pity you. | That's a degree to love.' *■ At any rate,' he 
adds, 'the present disposition of the lines is wrong. — Malone's ears!' Honest 
Malone is not responsible for the present disposition, which, as we see, is as old as 
the First Folio. If Lettsom has correctly reproduced Walker's note. Walker has 
left untouched the present monstrous line — Walker's ears! Dyce says properly 
that this arrangement by Walker seems < objectionable.' To me, Hudson's arrange- 
ment also seems objectionable ; he divides the line at * your,' reading as one line 
' Receiving enough is shown ' ; in the rest he follows Walker. Abbott (§66) gives 
still another division, which is what, I think, Walker really intended ; Abbott reads 
as one line 'To one of your receiving enough is shown.' To me all these divisions 
of lines are of trifling moment ; no ear can detect them ; if it could, the delivery 
would be stilted and offensive ; metre is a servant, not a master ; here we are dealing, 
not with didactic, or epic, or lyric poetry, but with dramatic, where emotion is all in 
all. In the present instance, Olivia is labouring under deep and suppressed excite- 
ment ; she is on the point of revealing a secret of her innermost soul. Her words 
are in perfect rhythm. Let them be so spoken, and let the lines take care of them- 
selves. — Ed. 

122. receiuing] Warburton : That is, to one of your ready apprehension. 
[Sec II, ii, 13.] 

123. Cipresse] W. A. Wright : Cypress is a fine transparent stuff now called 
crape. Compare Milton's Penseroso, 35 : ' Sable stole of cypress lawn.' Palsgrave 
gives : ' Cypres for a woman's necke — crespe*\ and Cotgrave : 'Crespe : m. Cipres. 
also. Cobweb Lawne.' In Jonson's Every Man in his Humour. I, iii, the edition 
of 161 6 reads : * And he . . . this man I to conceale such reall ornaments as these, 
and shaddow their glorie, as a Millaners wife do's her wrought stomacher, with a 
smokie lawne, or a blacke cypresse ?' The et3rmology of the word has been con- 
sidered doubtful. Skinner (Etymol. Angl.) regards it as a corruption of the French 
erespe^ but suggests that it may be derived from the island of Cyprus, where it was 
first manufactured. The latter derivation is the more probable. There are many 
instances in which articles of manufacture are named from the places where they 
were made, or at which they were commonly sold. For example, arras was so called 
from Arras, baudekyn from Baldacco or Bagdad, calico from Calicut, cambric finom 


194 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. L 

Hides my heart : fo let me heare you fpeake. 124 

124. Hides] Hideth Del. conj. Glo. Var. Ran. Var. Stecv. Sing. 
Ktly, Wright, Rife, Dtn, Wh. ii. Con- 124. fo\ j<;,Cap. (ErniU) Coll. Dycc, 

ceals ox CVw^rj Ktly conj. (Exp. 179). Cam. 

my] my poore Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. me\ us Rowe ii, + . 

Cambray, cashmere from Cashmere, damask from Damascus, dimity from DamiettA^ 
domick from Toumay, dowlas from Dourlans, lockeram from Locrenan, muslin from 
Mosul. The probability that cypress (or sipers, as it is also spelt) has a similar 
origin, is increased by finding that the island of Cyprus is associated with certain 
manufactures. In the Antient Kalendars and Inventories of the Treasury of the 
Exchequer, edited by Sir Francis Palgrave (iii, 358), among the goods and chattels 
belonging to Richard II., and found in the Castle at Haverfbrd, are enumerated: 
'Prim'ement xzv. draps d'or de div'ses suytes dount iiii. de Ciprg les autres de 
Lukes,* Lukes is here Lucca (Fr. Lucques), and Cipre is Cyprus. Again, in a list 
of draperies sold at Norwich in 44 and 45 Elizabeth (quoted by Mr Gomme in Hoies 
and Qu. 5th Ser. z, 226, from the Appendix to the Thirty-eighth Report of the 
Deputy Keeper of the Public Records ^ p. 444), we find 'fustyans of Naples . . • 
Paris clothes . . . sattins of Cipres, Spanish sattins.' Further, in the Nomendator 
of Hadrianus Junius, translated by Higins (ed. Fleming, 1585, p. 157), we find, 
*■ Vestis subserica, tramoserica . . . De satin de Cypres. A garment of qrpers satten, 
or of silke grograine.' If therefore there were special fabrics known as * cloth of 
gold of Cypres * and < satin of Cyprus,' it is evident that these were so called, either 
because Cyprus was the place of their manufacture, or, which is equally probable, 
because they were brought into Europe from the East through Cyprus. In Hall's 
account (Chronicle^ Hen. VIII., fol. 85a) of a masque at the entertainment given to 
Henry the Eighth by Francis, it is said that three of the performers had < on their 
hedes bonettes of Turkay fashyon, of cloth of gold of Tyssue, and clothe of syluer 
rolled in Cypres kercheffes after the Panyns fashyon,' which points to an Eastern 
origin for the use of cypress. From denoting the material only, the word ' cypress' 
came to signify a particular kind of kerchief or veil worn by ladies, as in the present 
passage [in Twelfth N.\ So in Florio's Italian Diet.; 'Velaregli, ahadowes, 
vailes, Launes, Scarfes, Sipres, or Bonegraces that women vse to weare one their 
faces or foreheads to keepe them from the Sunne.' And the pedlar in John Hey- 
wood's play of The Four Fs has in his pack (Dodsley*s Old Eng. Flays, ed. Haz- 
lit^> h 350) * ' Sipers, swathbands, ribbons, and sleeve laces.' [This valuable note 
is quoted in full in Wint. Tale, IV, iv, 251. Dr Murray {N. E. D.) cites it as 
the authority for his statement that Cypress is probably formed on ' Old French 
Cipre, CyprCf the island of Cyprus, from which, in and after the Crusading times, 
various fabrics were brought.'] 

123. a Cipresse, not a bosome] Collier : Meaning, that her heart may be 
as easily seen as if it were covered only with a Cyprus veil, and not with flesh 
and blood. — Gollancz : The force of these words has, it would seem, been missed ; 
the point of the 'cypress' is not its blackness, but its transparency. Com{)are, 
* Her riding- suit was of sable hew black. Cypress over her face, Through which her 
rose-like cheeks did blush, All with a comely grace.' — Rodin Hood, Will, Scadloch 
and Little John. * Bosom ' must, I think, be used in this passage in the sense of 
'the bosom of the dress,' which conceals the body. Olivia says, 'yon can 
my heart ; a thin gauze, as it were, hides it, not a stomacher.' 

ACT III. SC. i.] 



Vio. I pittie you. 

OL That's a degree to loue. 

Vio. No not a grize : for tis a vulgar proofe 
That verie oft we pitty enemies. 

OL Why then me thinkes 'tis time to fmile agen: 
O world, how apt the poore are to be proud ? 
If one (hould be a prey, how much the better 
To fall before the Lion, then the Wolfe ? 

Clocke Jlrikes. 
The clocke vpbraides me with the wafte of time: 
Be not affraid good youth, I will not haue you. 




127. griu'\ Cam. grice Ff, Rowe, + . 
grise Stecv. 

129. me thinke5'\ methinks F^. 

130. proud r\ proud! Theob. 

131. the better'] better F^F^, Rowe. 
135. haue youy] have you; Ff. 

124. Hides] Delius : Possibly, we should read Hideth. W. A. Wright, who, 
in the Globe edition, adopted this conjecture, for the sake of the metre, calls atten- 
tion to a similar instance in Rich, III: III, vi, 11, * where the quartos have '< sees 
not '' for " seeth not,*' while the folios mend the metre by reading "cannot see." ' 
[Were any emendation needed, almost any one is to be welcomed rather than the 
weak, self-commiserating < My poor heart * of the Second Folio. And yet Hunter 
(i, 407) defends it (Delius' s change had not then been proposed), because without this 
' excellent reading,' as he terms it, the verse is * hobbling and almost unpronounce- 
able.' Could Hunter, admirable critic as he was, have imagined that Olivia pro- 
nounced this line as a line ? After the words * Hides my heart ' was there not a long 
and painful silence? until at last Olivia has to entreat Viola to speak. — Ed.] 

124. 80] Abbott (§ 66) : That is, after this confession. 

127. grise] Murray ( A^. E, D. s. v. Grece) : An adoption of Old French, gret^ 
greytf greis, plural of gri^ taken as a collective singular in sense of ' flight of steps, 
staircase ' ; contemporaneously a double plural greces. greeses was formed and used 
with the meaning * flight of steps ' and < steps in a flight'; whence in the 15th cent 
a singular form grece [or as here 'grize'] was deduced, — in the sense of a single 
step or stair in a flight [That it was not in common use, even in Shakespeare's 
own time, we may infer from Othello, I, iii, 227, where it is immediately explained : 
* lay a Sentence, Which as a grise, or step may helpe these Louers.' It occurs only 
once more, in Titnon, IV, iii, 16 (p. 90, column a. in Folio) : 'for euerie grize of 
Fortune Is smooth'd by that below.' — Ed.] — W. A. Wright: The plural of this 
word, ' grisen ' or *■ grizen,' is the proper name of the steps at Lincoln, which are 
known as the Grecian stairs. 

127. vulgar] Malone : That is, it is common proof, the experience of every day. 

135. I will not haue you] Dyce (ed. ii) : Mr Lettsom queries harm; and 
observes, ' In either case, after this a line or more seems to have been omitted, in 
which Olivia tells the supposed youth that he is too young to marry.' [That any 
line is lost, is doubtful ; but it seems to me that Olivia's sentence, owing to her 
emotion, is unfinished. To give to these words the meaning ' I will not marry you,' 
represents Olivia as refusing an offer before it is made. — Ed.] 

196 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. i. 

And yet when wit and youth is come to harueft, 136 

your wife is like to reape a proper man : 
There lies your way, due Weft. 

Vio. Then Weftward hoe : 
Grace and good difpofition attend your Ladj^ip : 140 

you^l nothing Madam to my Lord, by me : 

OL Stay : I prethee tell me what thou thinkft of me ? 142 

136. is come\ are come Pope, + , Var. 141. me :^ mef Rowe et seq. 

'73, Hal. 14a. Stay:^ Separate line. Cap. Var. 

140. attend'\ Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. Cam. '78 et seq. 

Rife. Uend Steev. Var. Knt, Coll. Wh. I pretkee'\ ^ythet Pdpe, +. 

SU. Ktly, Huds. tend Dyce ii, iii. mef^ me. Cap. Var. '78 et seq. 
your Lady/hip] you Han. 

136. when wit and youth is come] At the present time, when a verb in the 
singular is found, in Shakespeare, after two nominatives which together form one 
composite idea, the cry of < bad grammar ' is no longer raised. 

137. a proper man] That is, a very handsome man. In a note on Muck Ado^ 
II, iii, 177, W. A. Wright quotes from the 'Authorised Version of Hehrews^ 
xi, 23 : "By faith Moses, when he was bom, was hid three months of his parents, 
because they saw he was a proper child." Also, Lyly, in his Eupkues (p. 352, 
ed. Arber), says of Adam and Eve, <* Yet then was she the fairest woman in the 
worlde, and he the properest man." ' 

138. due West] W. A. Wright : As the sun of his favour was setting. [But, 
was it? — Ed.] 

139. Westward hoe] Steevkns : This is the name of a comedy by Dekker and 
Webster, 1607. — Nares : Eastward Hoe was the title of another play by Chapman 
and Marston. Both must have been current phrases before they became titles for 
plays. Eastward Hoe seems to be equivalent to a trip to the city ; and Westtoard 
Hoe implies a trip to Tyburn. — Staunton : In our poet's time the Thames formed 
the great highway of traffic, and ' Westward, ho !' < Eastward, ho !' equivalent to 
the modem omnibus conductor's * West-end !' < City !' were the cries with which the 
watermen made its shores resound from mora till night At that period, before the 
general introduction of coaches, there were not less, according to Taylor, than forty 
thousand of these clamorous Tritons pl3ring their calling on the river in and near the 
metropolis ; and their desperate contentions to secure custom sometimes led to scenes 
of scandalous riot and confusion. 

139, 140. Walker ( Crit, iii, 87) would arrange these lines : ' Then westward — 
ho ! Grace and good disposition | Attend your ladyship.' This arrangement is 
adopted by the The Globe ed. by Deighton, White ii, Innes, and, in general, 
by those who have used 77ie Globe to print from. It has the recommendation that 
it preserves < attend ' of the Folio. But then The Cambridge ed. retains * attend,' 
and yet does not follow Walker ; it adheres to the division of the Folio, which gives 
us a line of excellent and invincible prose. — Ed. 

142. Stay: I prethee] Capell's scansion, whereby 'Stay' is made an inter- 
jectional line, Walker would reject, and read [Crii, iii, 87) as in the Folio, 
except that ' I prethee' is to be read, with Pope, as/r^y thee. 

ACT III, sc. i.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 197 

Vio. That you do thinke you are not what you are. 143 

OL If I thinke fo, I thinke the fame of you. 

Uio. Then thinke you right : I am not what I am. 145 

OL I would you were, as I would haue you be, 

Vio. Would it be better Madam, then I am ? 
I wifh it might, for now I am your foole. 

OL O what a deale of fcome, lookes beautiful! ? 
In the contempt and anger of his lip, 150 

A murdrous guilt (hewes not it felfe more foone, 
Then loue that would feeme hid : Loues night, is noone. 
Cefarioy by the Rofes of the Spring, 
By maid-hood, honor, truth, and euery thing, 
I loue thee fo, that maugre all thy pride, 155 

146. tuergy as] were as Pope, Han. 149, 150. beauHfuli f .,. lip,"] beauti- 
Cap. Var. '78 et seq. fulf„Jip! F^. beauti/ui,,„lip ! Rowe 

147. am ?] Ff, Rowe i, Theob. Warb. et seq. 

Johns. Var. '73, Coll. i, Hal. Cam. Sta. 151. murdrous'] murderous ¥ ^yKoyrt^ 

Rife, Wh. ii. am, Rowe ii et cet. Coll, Dyce, Cam. 

149. [Aside] Sta. Ktly, Huds. 

143. That . . . what you are] That is, that you do think you are not in love 
with a woman, but you are. 

147. then I am ?] The interrogation mark seems here indispensable ; without 
it the construction of < it might ' in the next line is difficult, perhaps to be relieved 
only by boldly changing it, with Hanmer, into < /might.* 

I49» 150* O what a deale . . . anger of his lip] In so far as that a woman has 
fallen in love with a woman in disguise, the present situation is similar to that 
where Fhebe falls in love with Rosalind in As You Like It, There, as here, anger 
and scorn merely fan the flame. Fhebe says to Rosalind (III, v, 68) : < Sweet 
youth, I pray thee chid a yere together.' Very noteworthy, too, is the different 
treatment which Viola and Rosalind, each true to her own character, bestow on 
their female adorers. Steevens quotes appositely : < Which bred more beauty in his 
angry eyes.' — Ven, 6f Ad. 70. — Ed. 

151, 152. A murdrous guilt ... is noone] This seems to be the argument 
whereby Olivia justifies to herself an avowal of her love. Since passion cannot be 
hidden, since what is night to a lover is noon to all others, concealment is useless, 
and she is driven to disclose her love ; thereupon she pours forth her burning 
words. — Ed. 

154. maid-hood] This word. is also used in Othelloy I, i, 189: < Is there not 
Charmes, By which the propertie of Youth, and Maidhood May be abus'd ?' 

155. maugre] That is, in spite of. Again, in Lear^ • I protest, — Maugre thy 
strength, place, youth, and eminence,' V, iii, 132 (where the First Quarto has 
Maugure\ Cotgrave gives, *Maulgri eux, Mauger their teeth, in spight of their 
hearts, against their wills, whether they will or no.' 

155. thy pride] Collier (ed. ii) : This is injudiciously altered to *my pride' 
by the MS Corrector ; Olivia refers to the < contempt and anger ' she has just above 
imputed to Viola. 

198 TWELFE NIGHT [act III, sc L 

Nor wit, nor reafon, can my paffion hide : 156 

Do not extort thy reafons from this claufe, 

For that I woo, thou therefore haft no caufe : 

But rather reafon thus, with reafon fetter ; 

Loue fought, is good : but giuen vnfought, is better. 160 

Uio, By innocence I fweare, and by my youth, 
I haue one heart, one bofome, and one truth, 
And that no woman has, nor neuer none 
Shall miftris be of it, faue I alone. 

And fo adieu good Madam, neuer more, 165 

Will I my Mafters teares to you deplore. 

OL Yet come againe : for thou perhaps mayft moue 
That heart which now abhorres, to Uke his loue. Exeunt 168 

157. thy'\ my Ktly conj. Coll. Dyce, Cam. sought... gvoen^ un- 

158. For that] Ff. Rowe,-f , Dyce, sought ^^heoh. Warb. Johns. 

Cam. Sta. Ktly, Rife, Wh. ii. For, that 164, 165. /aue^.And] OH. Save I 

Cap. et cet. alone / Vio. And Han. 

159. thuSf with] thus with Rowe et 168. heart.,, abhorres ,] F,. hearty,,, 
seq. abhorres F^F^, Rowe, Pope, Han. hearty 

160. fought J... vn/oidghf^] Ff, Rowe. ,„abhors^ Theob, et seq. 
sought.,. unsought Pope, Han. Cap. Mai. 

157, 158. Do not ... no cause] The meaning of these two lines seems to be : 
From this avowal of mine (this clause) do not extort the excuse that, because I 
woo, thou hast, therefore, no need to do so. It seems, however, to have puzzled 
Hanmer, who resorted to emendation. His text reads: < Do not extort 'wry 
reasons from this clause, For that I woo ' ; whereof the comprehension must be left 
to the intelligence of the reader. ' The clause ' refers, I think, to what Olivia had 
just said : < I love thee so,' etc. But Capell understands it as applying to what 
follows. * Clause,* says Capell, 'must mean — article, and ** thy reasons'* — thy 
reasons for not wooing ; the " clause** being this, — that, because I woo, therefore 
you need not, — express* d in the line following.* — Deighton : That is, do not 
endeavour forcibly to release from the sentence in which they are imprisoned reasons 
which shall seem adequate to you ; * clause * apparently is used with reference to its 
literal sense from Latin claudere^ to shut up, and the metaphor is kept up in < fetter,' 
two lines lower. 

158. For that] That is, because. For other similar instances, see Abbott, 
§§151, 288. 

163. nor neuer none] W. A. Wright: Another instance of such a triple 
negative will be found in As You Like Ity I, ii, 27 : * nor no further in sport 

164. saue] Abbott (§118, p. 81): * Save* seems to be used for saved^ and * I ' 
to be the nominative absolute. Thus also xnjul. Cas. V, v, 69 : * All the conspir- 
ators save onlv he.* 

164. saue I alone] Johnson : These three words Sir Thomas Hanmer gives to 
Olivia probably enough. [Very improperly, I think. — Ed.] 

ACT III, sc. u.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 1 99 

Sccena Secunda. 

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew y and Fabian. 2 

And. No faith, He not (lay a lot longer : 

To, Thy reafon deere venom, giue thy reafon. 

Fab. You muft needes yeelde your reafon. Sir An- 5 


And. Marry I faw your Neece do more fauours to the 
Counts Seruing-man, then euer (he beftow'd vpon mee : 
I faw't i'th Orchard. 

To. Did (he fee the while, old boy, tell me that. 10 

And. As plaine as I fee you now. 

Fab. This was a great argument of loue in her toward 
you. 13 

Scene IV. Pope, + . Act IV. Scene 10. fee the] fee thee the F^F^ et seq. 

i. Spedding. boy^ ... Mo/.] hcy^ ... thcUt Ff, 

Olma's House. Rowe. Rowe, + , Cap. boy f ,., that Sittv, et 

3. longer /] F,. longer, F^F^ et seq. seq. 

8, 35. Counts] Ihihe^ s Kowe, + , 12. toivard] tozoanls Thtoh.iifWuxb. 

8. vpon] on Rowe ii, + , Var, '73. Johns. 

I. Sccena Secunda] Marshall : In [Inring's] acting-edition this and the fol- 
lowing scene are transposed, forming scene i. and ii. respectively, of Act IV. 

3. a iot] Eastwood & Wright (Bible Word-book) : In the Hebrew alphabet 
yod (corresponding to Greek idra) is the smallest letter, and therefore the most 
likely to be omitted or overlooked. Hence it is applied to any small quantity what- 
ever. . . . The origin of the word is seen more clearly in the form in which it appears 
in the following quotation : ' But the limits of his power [i. e. the devil* s] were set 
downe before the foundations of the world were laide, which he hath not the power 
in the least tote to transgresse.' — King James I. Dcemonologie^ II, i. 

3. longer :] It is possible that this colon, unnoticed by editors, is intentional, and 
indicates Sir Toby's scant toleration of the weak Knight's speeches, and his eager- 
ness to crush at the outset any signs of rebellion. — Ed. 

4, 5, etc. To. Thy . . . Fab. You] Note Sir Toby's familiar second person, in 
which he always addresses Sir Andrew, and the respectful, and equally invariable, 
you of Fabian. — Ed. 

10. the while] Abbott (§ 137, p. 93) : 'While' is originally a noun meaning 

* time.' * The while that,* from a very early period, is used in the condensed form 

* the while,* or * while that' or * while*; and * whiles* (genitive of while)^ meaning 
' of, or during, the time,* was similarly used as a conjunction. See < Whiles you are 
willing,* etc., IV, iii, 32. 

200 TWELFE NIGHT [ACT ni, sc. iL 

And. S'light ; will you make an Afle o'me. 

Fab. I will proue it legitimate fir, vpon the Oathes of 15 

iudgement, and reafon. 

To. And they haue beene grand lurie men, fince before 
Noah was a Saylor. 

Fai. Shee did fhew fauour to the youth in your fight, 
onely to exafperate you, to awake your dormoufe valour, 20 

to put fire in your Heart, and brimftone in your Liuer : 
you (hould then haue accofled her, and with fome excel- 
lent iefts, fire-new from the mint, you (hould haue bangd 
the youth into dumbenefle : this was look'd for at your 
hand, and this was baulkt : the double gilt of this oppor* 25 

tunitie you let time wafh off, and you are now fayld into 

14. S* light ;"] F,. * Slight; F^F^. grand-piry-nun Cap. grand-jurynun 
* Slight f Rowe ii, + . * Slight^ Cap. Dyce, Cam. 

Dyce, Cam. 32, 23. and with ... mintf'\ with ... 

me, ']m€f Ff. mint; Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. 

15. /wfV/] / Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. 24,25, 26. look' d.,. baulkt, ,,/ayld^ 
17. grand lurie men'\ F,. grand looked,., baulked,., sailed Var. '03, '13, 

Jury-men F^F^, Rowe, Pope, Han. *2I, Knt, Coll. Hal. Dyce, Cam. 
Grand Jury-men Theob. Warb. Johns. 

15-17. Oathes . . . grand lurie men] Castle (p. 108) : In comedy we have 
Meas.for Meas, full of law and Twelfth Night without it, as this play contains, I 
think, only two legal references, and both wrong. One where Sir Toby and Fabian 
are persuading Sir Andrew not to give up his pursuit of Olivia [in the present pas- 
sage]. Of course, this is wrong, witnesses prove matters upon oath. Jurymen 6nd 
verdicts or bills. The doubt I have in my mind is whether this mistake is inten- 
tional, as in Meas, for Meas.^ where Elbow considers an action for battery the proper 
remedy for slander. The joke does not appear self-evident enough to have been 
put in on purpose ; apparently there has been confusion between the duties of a 
witness and those of a grand juryman. That Shakespeare . . . knew what a 
juryman was is to be seen in / Hen, /K, when FalstafT not only assaults and 
robs the travellers, but insults them : * No, ye fat chuffs. . . . On, bacons, on ! 
"What, ye knaves? young men must live. You are grandjurors, are ye I We'll 
jure ye, * faith.* [II, ii, 97. See IV, i, 34, post,'\ 

19. Shee did shew fauour] * Did * is here emphatic. Fabian grants the fact of 
Olivia's favour, only to make his conclusions therefrom more forcible. — Ed. 

20. dormouse] Murray (iV. E, D.) : Origin obscure: the second element has 
been, at least since about 1575, treated as the word mouse, with plural miee, though 
a plural dormouses is evidenced in the 1 6-1 7th centuries. The first element has also 
from the i6th century been associated with Latin dormlre, French dormir, to sleep 
(as if dorm^mouse ; compare 1 6th century Dutch slaep-ratte, slaep-muys^\ but it is 
not certain that this is the original composition. Skeat suggests for the first ele- 
ment Old Norse dar, benumbed ; compare also dialectic < dorrer, a sleeper, a lacy 

ACT III, sc. ii.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 201 

the North of my Ladies opinion^ where you will hang 27 

like an yfickle on a Dutchmans beard^ vnleffe you do re- 
deeme it, by fome laudable attempt, either of valour or 
policie. 30 

And. And^t be any way, it muft be with Valour, for 

29. laudable] Om. Rowe, Pope, 31. And'l] An't Han. Cap. Coll. 

Han. Wh. Hal. Dyce, Cam. Ktly, Rife. 

person' (Halliwell). The French dormeuse. feminine of dormeur, sleeper, some- 
times suggested as the etymon, is not known before the 17th century. 

27. the North] That is, into the region of cold disdain. 

28. an ysickle, etc.] C. H. Coote {New SA, Soc, Tram. 1877-9, p. 94) sug- 
gests that Shakespeare derived this reference to the icicles on a Dutchman's beard 
from a glance at a new map whereon was recorded the discovery of Novaya Zembla 
by the Dutchman Barents, in 1596. ' From whence,' asks Mr Coote, ' did Shake- 
speare obtain this knowledge ? Certainly not from the pages of Hakluyt, as they 
are silent respecting it. That he obtained it as current oral news is, of course, quite 
possible ; but be this as it may, the most reasonable and natural explanation of the 
matter is, that it was suggested to the mind of Shakespeare by a glance at our ** new 
map " with many lines, in all probability the earliest engraved map produced in Eng- 
land whereon this important Arctic discovery is to be found.' [See Coote' s description 
of the ' new map ' (line 79 of this scene). It seems to me more likely that Shake- 
speare was indebted to some published account of Arctic voyages than to a glance at 
a map. W. A. Wright states that 'a translation of Gerrit de Veer's account of 
this voyage [of Barentz] was entered on the books of the Stationers' Company to 
John Wolfe on the 13th of June, 1598.' I do not know that any copy of this trans- 
lation of this date exists ; if it were ever actually published and a copy of it read by 
Shakespeare, it seems to me that this book would be the most likely source of Shake- 
speare's knowledge. The entry on the Stationers' Registers is as follows: <xiii® 
Jwiii [1598]. John wolfe | Entred for his Copie vnder th handes of master Hartwell 
and the warden master mans hand | A true description of Three voyages by sea, 
whereof the world as yett hath had but small intelligence : Three yeeres one after 
another by the Hollanders and Zelanders by north Norwaye, Musovya, and Tar- 
taria to the kyngdome of Cattay and Chyna Together with the discoverye of the 
Weygattes Nova sembla and of the land of 80 degrees which hath been taken for 
Groenland whereas yett there hath no man dwelt | And of the feirce Beares and 
other Sea monsters and merveylous could and howe in the last voyage the shippe is 
besett in lyce and thatt our men beinge vnder 76. degrees of Nova sembla built 
them a howse and Remayned there 10 monethes and after that Ryd in little slight 
vesselles alongest the sea. CCCl.[35o] myles alwaies with verye greate Daunger 
and incredible labour | By Jerrett De veer of Amsterdam.' — Arber*s Reprint^ III, 
118. Is it not more likely that Shakespeare found stories of icicles on Dutchmen's 
beards, in this book with its accounts of the 'merveylous could' and of ships 
' besett in ice,' than that he inferred them from a glance at a map ? I have sup- 
posed that no copy of this book dated 1598 is extant from Dr Wright's remark 
that 'the reprint of Phillip's translation for the Haklujrt Society is taken from a 
copy of 1609, and apparenUy an earlier edition is known.' — Ed. * 

202 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iu 

policie I hate : I had as liefe be a Brownift^ as a Foliti- 32 


32. Brownist] Steevens : The Brownists seem, in the time of our anthor, to 
have been the constant objects of popular satire. In Ram- Alley y 161 1, is the fol- 
lowing : 'Pandarism! why, 'tis grown a liberal science, Or a new sect, and the 
good professors Will (like the Brownist) frequent gravel-pits shortly. For they use 
woods and obscure holes already.* [I, i, p. 283, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley.] — W. A. 
Wright: Earle, in his Micro-cosmographia (ed. Arber, p. 64), says of 'A Shee 
precise Hypocrite,* < No thing angers her so much as that Woemen cannot Preach, 
and in this point onely thinkes the Brownist erroneous.* And in the old play of 
Sir Thomas Afore (Shakes. Soc.), p. 51 : ' Heers a lowsie jest ! but, if I notch not 
that rogue Tom barbar, that makes me looke thus like a Brownist, hange me !' 
[Robert Brown, the founder of the Brownists, was bom in 1550. His father obtained, 
by a charter of Henry VHI., the singular privilege of wearing his cap in the King's 
presence. About the year 1580, he began to promulgate his principles of dissent 
from the Established Church. His assaults upon the Church of England form 
of government gained him many followers. His sect daily increasing, Dr Freake, 
bishop of Norwich, with other ecclesiastical commissioners, called him before them. 
Being insolent to the court, he was committed to the custody of the sheriff's officer, 
but was released at the intercession of his relative, the Lord Treasurer Burghley. 
Brown now left the kingdom and settled at Middlebury in Zealand, where he formed 
a church of his own. The removal of persecution, however, broke up the unity of 
the party, and Brown soon returned to England.. For his indiscreet attempts to gain 
proselytes, he was cited by the bishop of Peterborough, and, refusing to appear, was 
finally excommunicated for contempt. The solemnity of this censure immediately 
effected his reformation. He moved for absolution, which was obtained, and from 
that time became a dutiful member of the Church of England. In a short time 
afterwards (about 1590) Brown was preferred to a rectory where* he might probably 
have died in peace ; but having some dispute with the constable of his parish rela- 
tive to the payment of rates, he proceeded to blows, and was afterwards so insolent 
to the justice that he was committed to Northampton jail, where he died in 1630. 
Brown boasted on his death-bed that he had been confined in thirty-two different 
prisons. Sir Walter Raleigh, in a speech in 1592, estimated the number of Brown- 
ists at no less than twenty thousand. Soon, however, differences of opinion began 
to arise ; some became absolute Separatists ; others adopted a milder form of oppo- 
sition to the Church, which ultimately resulted in Independency. This latter form 
prevailed, and the Brownists gave place to the Independents. The occasion of the 
Brownists* separation was not any fault they found with the faith, but only with the 
discipline and form of government of the other churches in England. They con- 
demned the celebration of marriages in the church, maintaining that, as matrimony 
was a civil contract, its confirmation ought to come from the civil magistrate. They 
rejected all forms of prayer, and held that the Lord*s prayer was not to be recited as 
a prayer, having been given only for a rule or model whereon all our prayers are 
to be formed. Their form of church government was democratic. They did not 
erect the priesthood into a distinct order. As the vote of the brotherhood made a 
man a minister, so the same power could discharge him from his office, and reduce 
him to a mere layman again. In a word, every church on the Brownists* model is a 
body corporate, having full power to do everything which the good of the society 

ACT III. sc. ii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 203 

75?. Why then build me thy fortunes vpon the bafis of 
valour.Challenge me the Counts youth to fight with him 35 

hurt him in eleuen places, my Neece (hall take note of it, 
and affure thy felfe, there is no loue-Broker in the world, 
can more preuaile in mans commendation with woman , 
then report of valour. 

Fab. There is no way but this fir Andrew. 40 

An. Will either of you beare me a challenge to him? 

To. Go, write it in a martial hand, be curft and briefe: 
it is no matter how wittie, fo it bee eloquent, and full of 
inuention : taunt him with the licenfe of Inke : if thou 
thou^ft him fome thrice, it (hall not be amiffe, and as ma- 45 

38. man5\ mens F^F^, Rowe i. Pope, Han. 

woman\ women FjF^, Rowe, 39. then'\ than FL 

requires, without being accountable to any presbytery, synod, assembly, convocation, 
or other jurisdiction whatever. — Condensed from Encyclopadia Britannica^ Ninth 
Ed.— Ed.] 

32, 33. Politician] W. A. Wright : Shakespeare generally uses this word in 
an unfavourable sense, as denoting a political intriguer or conspirator. See, for 
instance, / Hen. IV: I, iii, 241 : ' this vile politician, Bolingbroke.' And Hamlet^ 
V, i, 86 : * It might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now overreaches ; one 
that would circumvent God, might it not?' Again, Lear^ IV, vi, 175 : 'Get thee 
glass eyes ; And like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not.' [See 
Sir Toby's drunken use of the word, II, iii, 77.] 

34. me] The so-called ethical dative ; it occurs again in the next line, ' Chal- 
lenge me.' It is still in conmion use. See, if need be, Abbott, § 220, or Shake- 
speare passim, 

35. youth . . . with him] Tyrwhitt ( Var, 1773) : This is nonsense. Read, 
* Challenge me the Duke's youth ; go, fight with him.' — RiTSON (Remarks, p. 65) : 
If any alteration be necessary, it should be, ' to fight with you.' The text, however, 
is neither nonsensical nor difficult. Keightley reads ' with thee.' [But the text 
means simply, < Let your challenge to the Count's youth be to fight with him.'] 

36. shall] That is, must. For other instances, see Abbott, § 315. 

42. martial hand] Johnson : This seems to be a careless scrawl, such as shewed 
the writer to neglect ceremony. [Possibly, it may mean with heavy-faced, aggressive 
flourishes. — Ed, ] 

42. curst] Johnson : That is, petulant, crabbed. A curst cur is a dog that with 
little provocation snarls and bites. DoucE (i, 99) finds in < curst' and 'brief an 
allusion to the proverb : * A curst cur must be tied short.* [* Except those explana- 
tory of customs, dress, etc.,' says Dyce {Remarks , p. 96), *the notes of Douce are 
nearly worthless.'] 

44. with the license of Inke] That is, with all the freedom of speech which the 
written word allows. 

44, 45. thou thou'st him] Theobald: These words seem to me directly 
levelled at the Attorney-General Coke, who, in the trial of Sir Walter Raleigh, 

204 TWELFE NIGHT [act in. sc. u. 

ny Lyes, as will lye in thy fheete of paper, although the 46 

(heete were bigge enough for the bedde of Ware in Eng- 
land, fet ^em downe, go about it. Let there bee gaulle e- 
nough in thy inke, though thou write with a Goofe-pen, 
no matter : about it. 50 

And. Where (hall I finde you ? 

To. Wee'l call thee at the Cubiculo : Go. 

Exit Sir Andrew. 5 3 

48. go about U^ Ff, Knt, Wh. Hal. 52. the\ thy Han. Ran. Dyce ii, iii, 
and go about it Rowe, Pope, Han. go. Coll. iii, Huds. 

about it Cap. et cet. 53. Scene V. Pope, +. 

49. write\ write it Rowe, Pope, Han. 

attacked him with the indecent expressions : * All that he did was at thy instigation, 
thou viper ; for I thou thee, thou traitor ' ; < Thou hast a Spanish heart, and thjrself 
art a spider of hell,' etc. — Capell (p. 149) : The Poet's boldness was great, or his 
regard great for the character [Raleigh] so treated, if he ▼entur'd at producing this 
q)eech as it now stands ; 'tis more probable that 'twas abridg'd [from * invention ' to 
'about it'] in its stage exhibition ; at least at first, and 'till things had taken a torn 
(which they did shortly) which made adventuring safe. [Raleigh's trial took place 
in November, 1603. In 1S45, Hunter discovered from Manningham's Diary that 
Twelfth Night was acted in February, 1602, which at once disproves Theobald's 
reference unless this clause were a later addition, inserted after the trial, and before 
this play was printed in the Folio ; this, Hunter (i, 408) believes, is < not prob- 
able ' ; on the other hand, J. Churton Collins (p. 279, footnote^ asserts that 
< nothing is more likely.' In general, I have small faith in these contemporary 
allusions. Moreover, Hunter points out that as far as Shakespeare had any con- 
nection with a political party, he belonged to the party to which Raleigh was 
opposed. Stubbes (Christal Glasse, etc., 1 591, p. 198, ed. New Sh. Soc) says of 
his late wife that ' she was neuer heard to giue any the lie, nor so much as to thoa 
any in anger'; we need, however, no quotation better than Coke's language as 
given above. — Ed.] 

47. bedde of Ware] The Frontispiece to Halliwell's seventh volume is an 
elaborate engraving of this bed, taken in 1832. His note is as follows : This cele- 
brated bed is formed of oak, curiously and elaborately carved. The date 1460 is 
given on the back as the year of its construction, but it is undoubtedly a relic of the 
time of Queen Elizabeth. It is 7 ft. 6 in. in height, 10 ft. 9 in. in length, and 10 (t. 
9 in. in width. The earliest notice of the bed yet discovered occurs in the Itinerary 
of a German prince, Ludwig of Anhalt-KOthen, who came to England in 1596, and 
who mentions this renowned piece of furniture as so large that four couples might 
conveniently rest in it without any pair incommoding another. — Dyce (C7/pw.) : At 
what inn in Ware it was kept during Shakespeare's days is uncertain ; but, after 
being for many years at The Saracen's Head, it was sold there by auction in Sep- 
tember, 1864, and knocked down at a hundred guineas (the newspapers erroneously 
adding that Mr Charles Dickens was the purchaser). W. A. Wright says that it 
is now to be seen at the Rye- House. 

52. Cubiculo] Hanmer's reading thy, commended by Walker (CnV. ii. 234) 

ACT III. sc. ii.] OR, IVHAT YOU WILL 20$ 

Fa. This is a deere Manakin to you Sir Toby. 

To. I haue beene deere to him lad, fome two thoufand 55 

ftrong, or fo. 

Fa. We (hall haue a rare Letter from him; but you'le 
not deliuer't. 

To. Neuer truft me then : and by all meanes ftirre on 
the youth to an anfwer. I thinke Oxen and waine-ropes 60 

cannot hale them together.For-^w^/r^w, if he were opened 
and you finde fo much blood in his Liuer, as will clog the 
foote of a flea, He eate the reft of th'anatomy. 

Fab. And his oppofit the youth beares in his vifage no 
great prefage of cruelty. 65 

Enter Maria. 
To. Looke where the youngeft Wren of mine comes. 67 

54. ManakiftlmanikinTYieoh.yfBxh. 62. and"] an Walker {Crit. ii, 153), 

Johns. Hnds. Huds. 

58. d€liuef^t.'\ deliver it. Mai. Steev. 63. 0/ th' anatomy^ Ff, Rowe, + , WTi. 

Var. Knt, Coll. Hal. Sta. Ktly. de- dtke anatomy Cap. of the anatomy 

hvef't ? Dyce, Cam, Rife, Huds. Wh. u. Var. '73 et cet. 

61. Andrew] sir Andrew Coll. ii 67. mine'\ Yi^ Rowe, Pope, Hal. 
(MS). nine Theob. et cet. 

and adopted by Dyce, has much in its favour if 'cubiculo' refer to Sir Andrew's 
apartment; but as Sir Toby was apparently lodging in Olivia's house, and Sir 
Andrew, too, for that matter, it is quite possible that it may refer to some definite 
common chamber, to which Sir Toby gives a Latin name, either to impress Sir 
Andrew or to flatter him, as he did at the opening of II, iii, by assuming Sir 
Andrew's familiarity with that tongue. 

54. a deere Manakin to you] Abbott (§ 419 a, p. 309) : Unless <to' is used 
loosely like 'for,' 'dear' is here transposed. [See I, iv, 42.] 

6a Oxen and waine-ropes] Boswell : So, in Fletcher's Loyal Subject [1618] : 
'A coach and four horses cannot draw me from it. '[Ill, ii, p. 57, ed. Dyce.] 

62. blood in his Liuer] A bloodless liver was a sign of cowardice. See II, iv, 
104. Thus, Macbeth^ V, iii, 15 : * Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, Thou 
lily-liver' d boy !' And, Afer. of Ven. Ill, ii, 92 ! * How roanie cowards . . . Who 
inward searcht, haue lyuers white as milke.' 

64. opposit] Ma LONE : That is, an adversary. < Opposite ' was used as a sub* 
stantive. [See II, v, 140.] 

67. Wren of mine] Hanmer : The Wren is remarkable for laying many eggs 
at a time, nine or ten and sometimes more ; and as she is the smallest of birds, the 
last of so large a brood may be supposed to be little indeed, which is the image 
intended here to be given of Maria. — Warburton : The women's parts were then 
acted by boys, sometimes so low in stature, that there was occasion to obviate the 
inqnopriety by such kind of oblique apologies. — Haluwill (the only modern 

206 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. ii. 

Mar. If you defire the fpleene, and will laughe your 68 

felues into flitches, follow me ; yond gull McUuolio is tur- 

69. JlUches\ side-stiiches Cap. 69. yoiid'\ yon* Cap. Mai. Stecv. 

yond' Knt, Coll. Wh. 

editor who follows the Folio) : That is, my youngest wren, in allusion to the dimin- 
utive size of Maria. The term wren is similarly applied to a thin bony person in 
Htnv to Chuse a good Wife^ 1 602. Theobald's alteration is, I think, unnecessary. 
[Halliwell's reference to the use of * wren* in How to Chuse a good Wife^ etc., is 
hardly parallel, inasmuch as it is there applied to an elderly pedant. I suppose the 
passage he refers to is the following : < When didst thou see the starveling school- 
master? That rat, that shrimp, that spindle-shank, That wren, that sheep-biter, 
that lean chitty-face,* and so on, in three more lines of opprobrious epithets. — II, iii, 
p. 40, ed. Hazlitt-Dodsley. I am not sure, however, that Halliwell is not, otherwise, 
right in discarding Theobald's emendation. Why should the phrase be the youngest 
of nine ? The selection of this number seems to me pointless ; nine eggs are no 
more characteristic of the wren than seven or eight, or ten or eleven, or any other 
number up to eighteen ; these many eggs has the wren been known to lay. Willughby, 
in his Chapter on The Wren^ says (p. 229) : < A late English Writer tells us, that he 
hath had eighteen Eggs out of one Nest, and sixteen young ones out of another.' 
That Sir Toby chose a wren on account of its diminutive size is quite probable, 
but possibly there is an additional reason. At the sight of Maria, he recalls when 
and where he had last seen her, it was when she had planted them in the box tree, 
which means a hedge, to watch Malvolio ; she had then at once flitted from them ; 
as soon as Malvolio leaves, Maria as suddenly reappears. It was this quick, vivE- 
cious flitting to and fro among the hedges and alleys of the garden that reminded 
Sir Toby of a wren. * It creeps about hedges and holes,' says Willughby, * whence 
it is not undeservedly called Troglodites, It makes but short flights,' etc. If this 
characteristic of the diminutive bird be Sir Toby's predominant association, at the 
moment, with Maria, Theobald's change is superfluous, and *mine' of the Folio 
becomes Sir Toby' s admiring claim to possession in his little ' wren ' ; and since 
youth is the season of vivacity, Maria was the ' youngest ' of wrens, because the 
most vivacious. — Ed.] 

68. spleene] This word is used by Shakespeare in more than one meaning. 
In Mid. N. D, I, i, 156, it means excessive haste : < Briefe as the lightning in the 
coUied night, That (in a spleene) vnfolds both heauen and earth.' In the passage 
before us it evidently means mirth in excess. For this mirthful attribute of the spleen 
Shakespeare had authority in the physiology of his times. In Batman vppon Bar- 
tholome we find (Lib. Quintus, Cap. 41) : *The Milt is called Splen in Latine . . . 
And some men supp>ose, that the mylt is the cause of laughing. For by the Splene 
we are moued to laugh : by the Gall, we be wroth : by the Heart, we be wise : by 
the Braine, we feele : by the Lyuer, we loue.* And Batman adds : * The raylt is a 
spongeous substance, lieng vnder the short ribbes, in the left side, by which equall 
of kinde, man is disposed to mirth, otherwise there follow, the passions of sadnesse.' 

68. will laughe] That is, desire to laugh. 

69. gull] Nares : That is, a dupe, a fool. When sharpers were considered 
as bird-catchers, a gull was their proper prey. In the Dramatis Personae to the play 
of Every Man in his Humour ^ master Stephen is styled ' a country gull,' and master 

ACT III. sc. ii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 207 

ned Heathen, a verie Renegatho ; for there is no chriftian 70 

that meanes to be faued by beleeuing rightly, can euer 
beleeue fuch impoflible paffages of groffeneffe. Hee's in 
yellow (lockings. 73 

70. Heaikept] a heathen Walker 70. Renegatho] renegado Rowe et 

{^Crit. i, 91). seq. 

Matthew ' the town gull/ which is equivalent to the dupe of each place. But a ' gull ' 
is most completely defined by J. D. (supposed to be Sir John Da vies) in an epigram 
on the subject, about 1598 : 'Oft in my laughing rimes I name ^guU, But this new 
terme will many questions breede ; Therefore at first I will expresse at full, Who is 
ft true and perfect gull indeed. A gull is he, who feares a velvet gowne. And when 
ft wench is brave, dares not speake to her ; A gull is he which traverseth the 
towne, And is for marriage knowne a common wooer. A gull is he who while he 
proudly weares A silver-hilted rapier by his side, Indures the lyes and knockes about 
the eares, While in his sheath his sleeping sword doth bide. A gull is he which 
weares good hansome cloathes. And stands in presence stroaking up his hayre ; And 
filles up his unperfect speech with oathes. But speakes not one wise word through- 
out the year. But to define a gull in termes precise, A gull is he which seems and 
is not wise. — Ovid^s El. by C, M. and Epigrams by I. D. 

70. Renegatho] W. A. Wright : This represents somewhat the pronunciation 
of the Spanish word. Minsheu has * Renegado, an apostata, one that hath forsaken 
the faith.' The word appears not to have been thoroughly naturalized till the 1 8th 
century, for, although * renegade ' is found at the end of the previous century, < rene- 
gado * is used by Addison. In earlier English the form was * renegate,' from the 
French 'ren^gat,* and this was corrupted into *• runagate.' 

72. passages] In a note on All^ s IVeily I, i, 20: <0, that '*had" ! how sad a 
passage 'tis!' Johnson remarks: 'Passage' is anything that passes. So we now 
say, a ' passage ' of an author ; and we said about a century ago the ' passages ' of 
a reign. — Steevens : Thus Shakespeare himself: Com, of Err, III, i, 99, *Now 
in the stirring passage of the day.' So, in Shirley's Gamester ^ 1637 : 'I'll not be 
A witness of your passages myself,' i. e, of what passes between you [II, ii, p. 214, 
ed. Dyce]. Again, in A Woman'' s a IVeathercock, 1612 : *I not desire it, sir. Nor 
ever lov'd these prying, listening men. That ask of others' states and passages.' 
[I, I ] Again, lb., * I knew the passages 'twixt her and Scudaniore.' [V, i.] Again, 
in The Dumb Knight, ♦ Cyprus. Ourself and our own soul, that have beheld Your 
▼ilc and most lascivious passages. '[V, i.] — Nares : 'Passage* was currently used 
in this sense as late as Swift's time. — W. A. Wright: 'Passages of grossness,' 
gross impositions. Compare *pass upon,' III, i, 43. — Deighton thus paraphrases 
the sentence : I say heathen and renegade, for he must be so, since not a Christian 
in the whole world, who expects salvation from holding the true faith, can ever 
believe such grossly impossible doctrines as Malvolio has embraced in putting faith 
in the directions of my letter. * Passages ' seems to be used in the sense of passages 
from Scripture laying down principles of conduct, and * impossible passages of gross- 
ness,' to be put for passages of such gross impossibility. [The interpretation of 
' passages ' as acts, given by Johnson, Steevens, and Nares seems to be the true one. 
In / Hen. IV: III, ii, 8, the King in rebuking the young Prince, says, * But thou 
dost in thy passages of life Make me believe that thou art only mark'd For the hot 

2o8 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iL 

To. And croffe gartered ? 

Mar. Moft villanoufly : like a Pedant that keepes a 75 

Schoole Tth Church : I haue dogg'd him like his murthe- 
rer. He does obey euery point of the Letter that I dropt, 
to betray him : He does fmile his face into more lynes, 
then is in the new Mappe, with the augmentation of the 
Indies : you haue not feene fuch a thing as tis: I can hard- 80 

76, 77. murtherer] Ff, Rowe, + , Wh. 79. then is\ Ff, Rowe, + , C^). Cam. 
murderer Steev. et cet. Rife, than are Steev. et cet 

77, 78. dropt, to\ dropt to Rowe et 80. as /«.] as' tis. Cam. Rife, Wh. ii. 

vengeance and the rod of Heaven/ etc. Again, in Hamlet^ IV, vii, 113, the King 
says to Laertes, ' love is begun by time. And that I see, in passages of proof. Time 
qualifies the spark and fire of it.* Thus, here, Maria sajrs that it was these almost 
incredible acts of absurdity that were to make them laugh their sides into stitches. 

75. Pedant] Cotgrave gives : ' Pedagogue : m. A Schoole-master, Instnictor, 
Teacher, Tutor, Pedant' Also, * Pedant: m, A Pedant, or ordinarie Schoole- 

76. Schoole i'th Church] Haluwell : It is curious and worthy of remark, 
although there is no great probability of there being here a local allusion, that the 
grammar-school at Stratford was at intervals during Shakespeare's time, probably 
while the school was under repair, kept in the* Church or Chapel of the Guild, 
which was opposite one side of the poet's residence, New Place. If T'weiftk N^ht 
were composed at Stratford, no improbable supposition, at the very time this passage 
was written, there may have been *• a pedant that keeps a school in the Chorch ' 
within a few paces of the author's own house. [Evelyn in his Kalendarium records 
under ' 1624, I was not initiated into any rudiments till I was four years of age, and 
then one Frier taught us at the church porch of Wotton.* — Memoirs^ etc., vol. i, 
p. 3, ed. Bray.] 

79, 80. the new Mappe . . . Indies] Steevens : A clear allusion to a Map 
engraved for Linschoten's Voyages, an English translation of which was published 
in 1598. This map is multiHneal in the extreme, and is the first in which the 
Eastern Islands are included. — Hunter (i, 379) : I would not assert that there is 
not an allusion to these maps of Linschoten, but I doubt it. The turn of the 
expression seems to point not to the maps in Linschoten, but to some single map 
well-known at the time, ' the new map ' ; and further that the map alluded to had the 
words in its title ' with the Augmentation of the Indies,' which is not the case with 
any of Linschoten's maps. — Knight gives an engraving of a portion of the multi- 
lineal map in Linschoten's Voyages, exhibiting the islands of Malacca and Borneo. 
— Hallam (ii, 494) : But the best map of the sixteenth century is one of uncom> 
mon rarity, which is found in a very few copies of the first edition of Hakluyf s 
Vo3rages. This contains Davis's Straits, Virginia by name, and the lake Ontario. 
The coast of Chili is placed more correctly than the prior maps of Ortelius. . . . 
Corea is represented near its place, and China with some degree of correctness ; 
even the north coast of New Holland is partially traced. . . . The Ultra-Indian 
region is inaccurate. . . . But upon the whole it represents the utmost limit of geo* 

ACT III, sc. ii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 209 

[79, 80. new Mappe, with the augmentation of the . . . Indies] 
graphical knowledge at the close of the sixteenth century. — ^J[ames] L[enox] (Nuo- 
laus Syllacius De Insulis Aftridiani, etc., New York, i860, /»/. p. xiii) : The transla- 
tion of Linschoten's Voyages to the East Indies, published in London in 1598, . . . 
contains the map of the East Indian Islands, to which Shakespeare is supposed to 
refer in Twelfth Night, . . . But do not the words * with the augmentation of the 
Indies ' refer rather to a map representing a larger portion of the world than merely 
the East Indian islands? Such a map of the fVorld is given in Hakluyt's Voyages, 
published in London in 1598-1600. It has been celebrated by Hallam as the best 
map of the sixteenth century. . . . This map embraces both the East and West 
Indian islands, and is quite as multilineal as that which appears in Linschoten's 
Voyages. The observation of Steevens on the passage in Twelfth Night . . . would 
have been more correct had he called [Linschoten's map] the first in which these 
islands were delineated on a large scale, or with any pretensions to accuracy. [The 
map in Hakluyt's Voyages described by Hallam, and suggested by Lenox as the 
' new map ' referred to by Maria, was still further identified by C. H. CooTE [New 
Sh, Soc. Trans. 1877-9, p. 88, 14 June, 1878), who agrees with Lenox that 
Steevens' s note, quoted above, is wide of the mark, and proves that the multilineal 
map reproduced by Knight is no more multilineal than * any number of maps and 
charts reaching back to half a century,' and that it had no claim to be considered a 
' new map,' since, in point of fact, it was thirty years old at the time of the appear- 
ance of Tkoelfth Night, But as to the map described by Hallam, Coote shows that 
< it was a new map on a new projection laid down upon the principles set forth by 
Edward Wright ' ; and that on it ' we find the latest geographical discovery recorded, 
namely, that of Northern Novaya Zembla, by the Dutchman Barents in 1596. The 
news of this did not reach Holland until 1598. Allowing one year for this to reach 
England and to be worked up into our map, the conclusion is irresistible that this 
map had every claim to be regarded as the '* new map," in that it was published in 
I599t within two years of the performance of Twelfth Night in 1601.' *■ Now what 
was the state of things upon the eastern portion of our *' new map" at the close of 
the 1 6th century, as compared with the best maps of the world which preceded it ? 
A marked development in the geography of India proper, the island of Ceylon, and 
the two peninsulas of Cochin China, and Corea. For the first time Japan began to 
assume its modem shape. Turning to the S. E. portion of the "new map," there 
were to be seen traces of the first appearance of the Dutch at Bantam, sjrnchronizing 
almost within a year with that of their fellow-countrymen in Nova3ra Zembla. . . . 
It is this appreciation of the marked improvement and development of the eastern 
portion of our map, to which I believe Shakespeare desired to give expression in 
his judicious and happy use of '' augmentation." ' Coote proves that the maker of 
this 'new map' was Emmerie Mollineux, 'possibly with the assistance of Haklu3rt' 
'It would be an anachronism,' he continues, *to associate our ''new map" with 
the first edition of Hakluyt, 1589 ; to do so exclusively with the second would be 
equally a mistake, as in the latter we find no mention of it or of the discovery of 
Barentz. The truth seems to be that it was a separate map well known at the time, 
made in all probability for the convenience of the purchasers of either one or the 
other of the two editions of Hakluyt' ' The whole case for our map may be sum- 
marized thus: I. It was a " new map" on a new projection made by one of the 
most eminent globe-makers of his time, probably under the superintendence of Hak- 
la3rt 2. It had upon it as many sets of rhumb-lines as were to be found on any that 


2IO TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iiL 

\y forbeare hurling things at him^ I know my Ladie will 8i 

ftrike him : if fliee doe, hee'l fmile, and take't for a great 

To. Come bring vs, bring vs where he is. 

Exeunt Omnes. 85 

SccBfta Tertia. 

Enter Sebajlian and Anthonio. 2 

Seb. I would not by my will have troubled yo u, 
But fince you make your pleafure of your paines, 
I will no further chide you. 5 

Ant, I could not ftay behinde you : my defire 
(More fliarpe then filed fteele) did fpurre me forth, 7 

81. at him,'\ at Aim. F^. tfinio. Cap. et seq. 

1. Scaena...] Scene VI. Pope, + . 7- fort A,] forth; Thcob. et. seq. 
The Street Ro we. (subs.) 

2. Anthonio.] Ff, Rowe, + , An- 

preceded it, and f<mr more than the one of the Moluccas in Linschoten [repro- 
duced by Knight]. 3. It showed the whole of the East Indies, including Japan, 
which the map of Linschoten did not, 4. [Mr Coote here finds the reference to 
Barents' s voyage referred to at line 28 above.] Future research may possibly bring 
to light a successful rival to our "new map," but I doubt the probability of it' — 
W.A.Wright, in regard to this *new map' of Mollineux, is inclined to share 
Hunter's doubt as to Linschoten' s. Maria's description of the map *has so much 
the appearance of the title under which it was issued, that the absence of it from 
the map in question creates in me some misgiving as to whether it is really the map 
which Shakespeare had in mind. In all other respects it suits exactly, and the dif- 
ficulty I have suggested may not be an insuperable one.' [Inasmuch as this *new 
map ' was adapted for insertion in both the first and the second editions of Hakluyt, 
Hallam's cautious remark that it is to be found in a very few copies of the first edi- 
tion is evidently correct. If on preceding maps the Indies were already marked, 
however imperfectly, on any new map the statement that it had the * addition of 
the Indies,' would have been false; consequently * augmentation ' was the only 
word that could be used ; and this, as Hunter and Dr Wright remark, sounds so 
like a title, advertised on the map itself, that one cannot help regretting that this 
insignificant link is lacking in Mr Coote' s admirably welded chain. — Ed.] 

80, 81. I can hftrdly forbeare hurling things at him] O mighty Master! 

82. strike him] Steevens : We may suppose that in an age when ladies struck 
their servants, the box on the ear which Queen Elizabeth is said to have given to 
the Earl of Essex was not regarded as a transgression against the rules of common 

ACT III, sc. iii.] 



And not all loue to fee you (though fo much 
As might haue drawne one to a longer voyage) 
But iealoufie, what might befall your rrauell, 
Being skillefle in thefe parts : which to a ftranger, 
Vnguided, and vnfriended, often proue 
Rough, and vnhofpitable. My willing loue, 
The rather by thefe arguments of feare 
Set forth in your purfuite. 

Seb, My kinde AnthoniOy 
I can no other anfwer make, but thankes, 
And thankes : and euer oft good tumes, 





9. ofu\ me Heath, Dyce ii, iii, Huds. 
wfyage)"] voyage. Rowc ii, Pope. 

voyage,) Thcob. Warb. Johns, voyage; 

10. rrauell] travell F,. 

14. feare] fear. Pope et seq. 

18, 19. Om. Ff, Rowe. 

18. And thankes : and euer oft good 
tumes] Knt. And thanks: and ever 
oft-good turns Pope i. And thanks: 
and ever-oft good turns Pope ii. And 
thanks, and ever thanks ; and oft good 
turns Theob. Han. Warb. Johns. Cap. 
Del. Dyce i, Sta. Hunter, Rife, Verity. 
And thanks, ami ever. Oft good turns 
Var. '73. And thanks, and ever : oft 
good turns Var. '78, '85, Coll. i. And 
thanks again, and ever. Oft good turns 
Toilet, Ran. And thanks, and ever 
thanks: oft good turns Mai. Perring, 
And thanks, and ever thanks: often 
good turns Steev. Var. *03, '13, *2I, 
Sing, i, Harness. And thanks, still 

thanks ; and very oft good turns Coll. 
ii, iii (MS), Dyce ii, iii. And ever 
thanks: and oft good turns Sing. ii. 
And thanks, and ever thanks ; though 
oft good turns Lettsom ap. Dyce. And 
thanks : and very oft good turns Wh. i. 
And thanks, and thanks ; and very oft 
good turns Wh. i conj. And thanks, 
and ever oft good turns Hal. Symons* 
And thanks ; and ever .,. oft good 
turns Cam. Glo. Wright, Cholmeley, 
Chambers, GoUancz. And thanks, and 
ever thanks. Good tttms oft ViiXy, And 
thanks, and ever thanks ; too oft good 
turns Seymour, Huds. Conrad, Innes, 
Lee. And thanks; and ever thanks. How 
oft good turns Abbott {Index p. 497 )> 
Dtn. And thanks, and thanks ; and 
ever oft good turns Wh. ii. And thanks 
add every hour — though oft good turns 
Bulloch. And thanks, and evermore 
thanks. Oft good turns Orger. 

8. not all loue] Capell (p. 149) : These lines are most defectively worded, and 
to be supply^ d in this manner: * Nor tihzs love to see you all the cause, (though so 
much was that lov^s quantity, as might, etc. 

9. haue drawne one] Heath (p. 192) conjectured * drawn me^ ; again sug- 
gested by Walker {Crit. iii, 87), who cites Dyce, Remarks, p. 16, where we read : 
•The word "one'* is frequently printed by mistake foriw^ / e, g. in Beaumont & 
Fletcher, The Bloody Brother, I, i, we find, according to 4to, 1639, and folio, 1679 : 
*• *Twas not in one, my lord, to alter nature," while 4to, 1640, gives rightly, ** 'Twas 
not in me, my lord," etc' \^Me is better than *one,' but, inasmuch as *one ' makes 
tolerable sense, the propriety of change is doubtful. — Ei).] 

10. iealousie] That is, su.spicion, apprehension, as in Much Ado, II, ii, 45 : 
'iealousie shall be cal'd assurance.* 

18. And thankes : and euer oft good tumes] Theobald : This line is too 

2 1 2 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iii. 

Are (hufferd off with fuch vncurrant pay : 

But were my worth, as is my confcience firme, 20 

You (hould finde better dealing : what's to do ? 

Shall we go fee the reliques of this Towne ? 

Ant. To morrow fir, beft firft go fee your Lodging ? 

Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night 
I pray you let vs fatisfie our ^yts 25 

With the memorials, and the things of fame 
That do renowne this City. 

Ant. Would youl'd pardon me : 
I do not without danger walke thefe ftreetes. 
Once in a fea-fight 'gainft the Count his gallies, 30 

ao. worth'\ wealth Coll. MS. 28. Would.., me :'\ IVould you pardon 

23. Lodging /] Lodging. Ff. me f Coll. MS ap. Cam. 

28. Would youl'd'] * Would, you'd yourd] F,. 

Theob. Warb. Johns. 30. Counl his'] Duke his Rowe, -f- . 

short by a whole foot Then, who ever heard of this goodly double adverb ' ever-oft,' 
which seems to have as much propriety as always-sometimts ? [The Text. Notes 
furnish twenty-one readings, adopted by fifty-two editors and critics, not counting 
Knight, who sturdily and in obscurity follows the Folio. The comments are few 
and scanty ; they consist, in the main, of simple statements that the line should be 
read thus and so. R. G. White pronounces the reading of Collier's MS Corrector 
the 'best possible emendation' of 'ever,' yet he does not adopt it in his First 
Edition ; and he himself proposes a reading which he does not adopt in his 
Second. W. A. Wright says that Theobald's reading would be improved by sub- 
stituting y^ oft instead of 'and oft'; which is virtually Lettsom's emendation. 
Theobald's text has the largest following, and, with either Lettsom's or Wright's 
modification, would be, I think, the best that can be done with the line, which, be 
it noted, the other Folios shrewdly omitted altogether. — Ed.] 

20. worth] M. Mason : This means, in this place, wealth or fortune. — Dycb 
(Note on *I know the gentleman To be of worth and worthy estimation.' — Tuh> 
Gent. II, iv, 56) : * Worth ' is often used by our early writers as equivalent to * sub- 
stance, wealth ' ; compare, ' They are but beggars that can count their worth ; But 
my true love is grown to such excess, I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.' — 
/lom. ^ Jul. II, vi. * This is the life of the Prigger, who trauailes vp and downe 
the whole kingdome vpon his geldings of 20 and 40 pound price, and is taken for a 
man of good worth by his outward show,' etc. — Dekker's Belman of London, sig. 
G2, ed. 1608. 

20. as is my conscience] That is, as is my consciousness of what is your due. 

21. what's to do] That is, to be done. For other examples of the use of the 
infinitive active where we should use the passive, see Abbott, § 359, p. 259. 

22. go see] See, if need be, * go hunt,' I, i, 19. 

22. the reliques] Malonb : These words are explained by lines 25-27. 
30. Count his gallies] M alone : I suspect our author wrote, — ^ County s gallies,' 
and that the transcriber's ear deceived him. [For < transcriber's' read compositor^ s. 

ACT lu. sc. iiL] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 213 

I did fome feruice^ of fuch note indeede, 31 

That were I tane heere, it would fcarfe be anfwer'd. 

Seb. Belike you flew great number of his people. 

Ant. Th offence is not of fuch a bloody nature, 
Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrell 35 

Might well haue given vs bloody argument : 
It might haue fince bene anfwer'd in repaying 
What we tooke from them, which for Traffiques fake 
Mod of our City did. Onely my felfe ftood out , 
For which if I be lapfed in this place 40 

I fliall pay deere. 

32. iane\ Yi. ta^en Rowe. Djrce ii, iii. The offence Cap. et cet. 

33. people.'\ peopUf Dyce, Sta. 35. ofthe'\ of FjF^, Rowe i. 

34. Th offence^ Yi, Rowe,+, Wh. i, 

—Ed.]— Walker (Crit, iii, 87): The use of * his' as a separate word, 
instead of the termination s (now written 'j) in the genitive singular, is generally 
me in the Elizabethan poets, except in those cases where the substitution does not 
increase the number of syllables. Read, therefore, 'the County's gallies.' In like 
manner, AlPs Well, III, vii, — ' the Count he is my husband'; ' the Count he woos- 
your daughter ' ; read * the County is,' etc., * the County woos,' etc. — ^W. A. Wright r 
In the Authorised Version of 1 611, in the contents of Ruth iii, we find : ' By Naomi 
her instruction, Ruth lieth at Boaz his feete.' See Abbott, $ 217. 

32. answer'd] That is, defended. In line 37, it means compensated. 

33. great number] For the construction, see III, i, 98. 

36. argument] That is, cause, reason. Compare Hamlet, IV, iv, 54, * Rightly 
to be great Is not to stir without great argument,' etc. 

40. lapsed] Hunter (i, 408) : If authorities could be produced for the use of 
lapse in this sense [i. e, taken, surprised], which perhaps may be done, no more is 
to be said. But lapse is generally understood to mean something which does not in 
the least suit this passage, while there was a word latched, very like it, the sense of 
which is consistent. Take an example of its use from Golding's Ovid : ' A flaming 
firebrand from amidst an altar Rhoetus snatch' t With which upon the left side of his 
head Charaxus lacht A blow that crack' t his skull.' — Bk. xii. So, in Palsgrave r 
< If I had latched the pot in time it had not fallen to the ground.' Again, * A sound 
being made by the clashing of hard things together, and latched by the outward 
ear.' — Gate of Language ^ p. 330. It appears to be nearly the same word with catch, 
[Keightley adopted this change, which is certainly very tempting, but not 
absolutely necessary. Hunter might have added, *■ I have words That would be 
howl'd out in the desert air, Where hearing should not latch them.' — Macbeth^ IV, 
iii, 195, and notes in this ed.; also, in Sonnet 113, 6 : ' For it [f. e. the eye] no form 
delivers to the heart Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it doth latch.' The word 
Match' t' in Mid, N, D, III, ii, 38, is of a different derivation, according to Skeat, 
meaning to drip, or cause to drop. Schmidt {Lex.) defines * lapsed ' as ' surprised, 
taken in the act'; and gives two examples, the present phrase and Hamlet, III, iv, 
107 ; but to neither does his definition completely apply (the passage in Hamlet, 
' who lapsed in fume and passion,' is altogether misinterpreted). The Century Diet. 

214 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. iii. 

Seb. Do not then walke too open. 42 

AnL It doth not fit me : hold fir, here's my purfe, 
In the South Suburbes at the Elephant 

Is beft to lodge : I will befpeake our dyet, 45 

Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your knowledge 
With viewing of the Towne, there fhall you haue me. 

Seb. Why I your purfe ? % 

AnU Haply your eye (hall light vpon fome toy 
You haue defire to purchafe : and your (lore 50 

I thinke is not for idle Markets, fir. 

Seb. He be your purfe-bearer, and leaue you 
For an houre. 

AnU To th'Elephant. 

Seb. I do remember* Exeunt. 55 

45. 46. lodge „, kH<rwlidgi\ lodg ,„ Cap. Var. Mai. Steev. Var. Dyce, Hal. 
knovoUdg F^. Wh. i. Prose, Var. *2i, Coll. 

46. the time] your time Theob. ii, 54. ih' Elephant] Ff, Kowe,+, Wli. 
Warb. Johns. Var. '73, '78, '85, Ran. i, Dyce ii, iii, Huds. the elephant Cap. 

47. Towne f] town; Theob, et seq. the Elephant Var. '73 et cct. 
52,53. y3V.../i>r] One line, Theob. + , 

has no reference to * lapse' as here used; but Webster's International gives the 
present passage as an example of the meaning, * to surprise in a fault or error ; 
hence to surprise or catch, as an offender.' — Ed.] 

44. the Elephant] Halliwell: The Elephant was a well-known sign in 
y London, and Shakespeare was unquestionably thinking of his own country, both in 

the writing of this passage apd in the subsequent one which alludes to the bells of 
St. Bennet. * The Elephant and Castle ' was, and is, a still more common sign. 
In MS Ashmol, 334, a medical MS written in 1610 and 1611, mention is made of 
* Mr Dee at the signe of the Elephant and Castle by Fleet condyt, an apothecaiyes 
howse.' There was an < Elephant and Castle ' near the Ro3ral Exchange in Corn- 
hill, 1681. — ^W. A. Wright : If it were not an anachronism, I should like to sug- 
gest that Shakespeare might be thinking of the Elephant and Castle at Newington, 
which is in * the south suburbs ' ; but I have been unable to trace that inn further 
back than the middle of the seventeenth century. 

45. Is best] For other examples of the ellipsis of * it,' see Abbott, § 4049 
p. 291 ; also *that satisfaction can be none,' III, iv, 237, where there is an ellipsis 
of Ihere. 

45. dyet] W. A. Wright : That is, food or fare generally ; not, as now, pre- 
scribed or limited food. In Shakespeare's time it had the sense of < daily food,' 
as is clear from Cotgrave, who gives : ' Diete : f. Diet or dailie fare,' supposing it to 
be from the Latin dies instead of the Greek diaira' 

47. With viewing] See I, v, 76, 77, * for the better increasing.' Here the defi- 
nite article is absorbed in the final th of * With ': * With' viewing.'— Ed. 

51. is not for] That is, is not fit for, or foil enough. See, 'I will on with my 
speech,' I, v, 189. 

ACT III, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 21$ 

ScoBfta Quarta. 

Enter 0/iuia and Maria. 2 

OL I haue fent after him, he fayes hee'I come : 
How (hall I feaft him ? What beftow of him t 4 

I. Scceoa...] Scene VIII. Pope, + . 3. he/ayes he^l'\say^hewill1\itoh, 

OliTia's House. Rowe. Olivia's say he will Han. 

Garden. Cap. 4. of him] on him Pope, + , Var. '73, 

3. [Aside. Sta. Huds. Ran. Stcev. Var. 

him^] him : Rowe et seq. 

3. he sayes] Theobald: But who [sic] did he saj so to ? Or from whom 
could my Lady have such intelligence? Her servant was not yet return' d ; and, 
when he does return, he brings word that the youth would hardly be entreated back. 
I am persuaded, she was intended rather to be in suspense, and deliberating with 
herself; putting the supposition that he would come; and asking herself, in that 
case, how she should entertain him. I imagine, therefore, the Poet wrote : * Say, 
he will come ' ; so Viola, before, in this play : ' Say, I do speak with her, my lord ; 
what then ?' So, Petruchio in the Tam, of the Shrew : * Say, that she rail ; why, 
then I'll tell her plain,' etc. And in numberless other passages. — Warburton : 
That is, I suppose now, or admit now, he says he'll come ; which Mr Theobald, 
not understanding, alters unnecessarily to * say he will come.' [These two notes 
are here given in full as a fresh instance of the high-handed treatment which 
Theobald received at the hand of Warburton. (Happily, Theobald was dead 
when Warburton' s edition appeared; and never knew the bitter unkindness 
of him who in correspondence constantly signed himself 'your most affec- 
tionate friend.') No attentive reader can fail to note that Waiburton deliber- 
ately appropriates Theobald's explanation, and then accuses Theobald of fail- 
ing to understand the passage. It would not have been worth while to call 
attention to this incident, were it not that in consequence of the insertion of War- 
burton's note in the Variorum of 1 821, while Theobald's was ignored, whatsoevef 
credit is due to the explanation is given, and to this day, to Warburton. — Ed.] 
CApell (p. 149) gives the same explanation as Theobald : < Admit his answer be — 
that he'll come.' — Hudson believes that the 'concessive sense' is required, not the 
affirmative *he says,' and that this sense is obtained 'naturally enough' by the 
simple transposition, ' says he,' ' the subjunctive being often formed in that way.' 
And so he reads in his text. — Karl Elze (p. 183) : These first four lines are evi- 
dently spoken aside by Olivia, as confirmed by her own words, ' I speak too loud ' ; 
only in the fifth line she addresses Maria. It is, however, in the natural course of 
things that she should have conversed with Maria on the subject before, and that the 
latter should have tried to console her enamoured mistress. I should, accordingly, 
feel no hesitation in reading : *Oliv. [Aside]. I have sent after him ; she says he'll 
come,' etc. [Theobald's explanation seems to be the true one, and the text, with- 
out alteration, will bear it out — Ed.] 

4. bestow of him] For other examples where *oV is equivalent to on, see 

2l6 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. iv. 

For youth is bought more oft, then begg'd, or borrowed. 5 

I fpeake too loud : Where's Maluolio^ he is fad, and ciulU, 
And fuites well for a feruant with my fortunes, 
Where is Maluolio ? 

Mar. He's comming Madame : 
But in very ftrange manner. He is fure pofleft Madam. 10 

6. I fpeake too loud'\ Ff, Rowe, Ktly. Var. Dyce, Coll. Sta. 
Separate line, Pope et cet 9. 11^ s] He is Han. 

H^ere^s] Ff, Rowe, Kdy. IV^ere 10. Bta,..poJe/i] One line (reading 

u Pope et cet in strange manner), Han. Steey. Var. 

9, 10. Prose, Pope i, Var. '21, Knt. '03, '13. 
Glo. Cam. H^s.,. manner. One line, very\ a very Ktly. 

Pope ii, Theob. Warb. Johns. Var. Ran. Madam.'\ Om. Stcev. Var. '03, '13. 

Abbott, § 175, who points out that ' the connection between 0/ and on is illustrated 
by Mer. of Ven. H, ii, 90, where old Gobbo says, "thou hast got morehaire 011 thy 
chin, than Dobbin my philhorse has on his taile"; and Launcelot retorts, "I am 
fore he had more haire of his taile than I have of my face.'' ' — Badham, however 
(p. 273), ' strongly suspects that confusion has arisen from ''of" in one of the tran- 
•cripts being so written as to appear to belong to the verse preceding its own, and 
that "him** was subsequently added to complete the sense. In the original copy 
Olivia would have said, — "How shall I feast him, what bestow? for youth Is 
bought more oft than begged or borrowed of.*' ' 

6. sad] That is, grave, serious, as in line 21, below. Compare, Rosalind's 
'Speake sadde brow and true maid.' — As You Like It, II, ii, 209. 

6. ciuill] Malone : That is, solemn and grave. So, in Rom. ^ Jul, III, ii, 10, 
' Come, civil night Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,' etc. — Steevens : So, in 
As You Like It, 'Tongues I'll hang on every tree That shall civil sayings show.' 
[Ill, ii, 127, of this ed. where, see Note, if need be.] — Staunton : Interpreted to 
import solemn and grave, which is mere tautology. ' Civil ' here means tart, sour, 
hitter. Thus, in The Scornful Lady of Beaumont & Fletcher : * If he be dvil, not 
your powder' d sugar. Nor your raisins, shall persuade the captain To live a coxcomb 
with him.'[rV, ii, — ^a passage wherein it is almost incomprehensible that Staunton 
should have supposed the meaning of ' civil ' to be tart, sour, or bitter. The Widow, 
whose late husband had been a grocer, and, (as we are expressly told in I, iii,) had 
sold powdered sugar, raisins, etc., is trying to make Young Loveless cast off his 
boon companions who were not, as she says, fit ' to furnish out a civil house ' ; she 
tells him he ' shall be civil. And slip off these base trappings,' whereupon the Cap- 
tain, who was one of the ' trappings,' replies, ' He shall not need, my most sweet 
Lady Grocer,' and then follows Staunton's quotation, where clearly the reference to 
'powdered sugar' and 'raisins' does not apply to 'civil,' as though to sweeten its 
tartness, but is merely, as Capell would say, a ' wipe ' on the source of the Widow's 
wealth. Staunton, in a note on ' Civil as an orange ' in Much Ado, urged this same 
meaning of ' Civil ' as bitter; but the notion seemed so wide .of the mark that I did 
not refer to it in the notes on that passage. Dr Murray, in the N, E. D., gives no 
snch meaning to ' civil ' as Staunton here claims for it. — Ed.] 

9, 10... 12-14. I^lie Text, Notes show the lame attempts to convert Maria's honest 
kersey prose into verse. 

Acrin, sc. iv.] 


OL Why what's the matter, does he raue ? 

Mar, No Madam, he does nothing but fmileyour La- 
d3rlhip were beft to haue fome guard about you, if hee 
come, for fure the man is tainted in's wits. 

OL Go call him hither. 

Enter MaluoUo. 
I am as madde as hee, 
If fad and metry madnefle equall bee. 
How now Maluolio ? 

Mai. Sweet Lady, ho, ho. 

OL Smil'ft thou ? I fent for thee vpon a fad occafion. 

Mai. Sad Lady, I could be fad : 
This does make fome obftruftion in the blood : 
This croffe-gartering, but what of that ? 
If it pleafe the eye of one, it is with me as the very true 
Sonnet is : Pleafe one, and pleafe all. 






II-14. l^y.„wits,'\ Four lines, end- 
ing Madam,,,, best... come y... wits. Cap. 
Var. '78, '85, Ran. Mai. Ending, 
Madam, ... ladyship ... come ; ... wits, 
(reading have guard ) Steey. Var. '03, 


II. matter,... raue /] matter f.„ravef 

Cap. et seq. 

12-14. Four lines, ending smile;,., 
guard. ,,man„.wits, (reading nothing 
else) Han. 

14. iif'j] Ff, Rowe. Pope, Theob. i, 
Var. '21, Coll. Wh. Hal. Dyce, Cam. 
Rife, in his Theob. ii et cet 

15-17. Go,,, hee] One line, Cap. et 

15. hither."] hither. [Exit Maria] 
Dyce, Cam. 

16. Enter...] After line 18, Cap. 

17. lani] Ff, Rowe, Var. '21, Knt, 
Coll. Wh. Dyce i, Cam. Rife. Im 

Pope et cet. 

18. metry'] F,. mercy F,. merry 

19. How] 01. How F,. 

20. ho, ho,] ha, ha Ff, Rowe, + f 
Var, '73. Om. Cap. 

[Smile fantastically. Rowe 
(Smiles, Rowe ii). 

21. /. . . occafion] One line. Cap. et seq. 
22-24. Prose, Pope et seq. 

22. Sad Lady,] sad, Icuiy f Theob* 
et seq. (subs.) 

23. 24. blood : This croffe-gartering,] 
Rowe, Pope, blood; this cross-garter- 
ing; Theob. Warb. Johns, blood, this 
cross-gartering, Han. blood, this cross- 
gartering; Cap. et seq. (subs.) 

24. of that r] of it? Theob. ii, Warb. 
Johns. Var. '73. of that, Var. '03, *I3. 

26. u] it F,. has it Cap. hath it 
Coll. MS. 

13. were best] For the construction, see I, v, 30. 

25, 26. the very true Sonnet] Haluwell : An allusion to a popular ballad 
of the time, originally published in the year 1 591-2, according to the following entry 
in the Stationers' Registers : * xviij. die Jannarii, 1591, Henry Kyrkham, entred for 
his copie under Mr Watkin's hande a ballad intituled the Crowe she sittes uppon the 
wall : please one and please all.* [Halliwell gives a facsimile of a copy] of one of 
the original editions of this ballad, probably the first issued, from the collection of 
Mr Daniel. The initials R. T. [at the end] perhaps stand for Richard Tarlton, 



[act III, sc. iv. 

Mai. Why how doeft thou man ? 
What is the matter with thee ? 

Mai. Not blacke in my minde, though yellow in my 



27. Mai.] 01. Ff. 

27, 28. Prose, Pope et seq. 

27. lVhy\Y^, fr>4|//' F,F^,Rowe, + . 

Why^ Cap. et seq. (subs.) 
27. doefi\ do'ft FjF^. 

the celebrated actor. If so, the ballad must have been current some time before its 
publication in 1592, as Tarlton died in 1588. — W. A. Wright: Only one copy is 
known to exist, in the collection formerly belonging to the library at Helmingham, 
which was sold at Mr George Daniel's sale, and is now in the possession of Mr 
Huth. — Staunton : It is adorned with a rude portrait of Queen Elizabeth, with 
her feathered fan, starched ruff, and ample farthingale. The numbers of this relic are 
not lofty, nor the expression very felicitous ; but ' Please One and Please All ' is 
worth preserving, both as an illustration of Shakespeare, and as a specimen of the 
quaint and simple old ballad literature of our forefathers : — 

A prettie newe Ballad, intytuled: 
The Crowe sits vpon the Wall, 
Please one and please all. 
To the tune of^ Please one and please all. 

Please one and please all. 
Be they great be they small, 
Be they litde be they lowe. 
So p3rpeth, the Crowe, 

sitting vpon a wall : 

please one and please all. [^^r.] 

Be they white be they black, 
Have they a smock on their back, 
Or a lurcher on her head. 
Whether they spin silke or thred, 
whatsoeuer they them call : 
please one and please all. [pis."] 

Be they sluttish be they gay, 
Loue they worke or loue they play, 
Whatsoeuer be theyr cheere, 
Drinke they Ale or drinke they beere, 
whether it be strong or small : 
please one and please all. [bis.l 

The goodwife I doo meane. 
Be shee fat or be she leane, 
Whatsoeuer that she be, 
This the Crowe tolde me, 

sitting vppon a wall : 

please one and please all. [bis*"] 

Be she cruell be she curst. 
Come she last come she first. 
Be they young be they olde, 
Doo they smile doo they skould, 
though they doo nought at all : 
please one and please all. [^.J 

Though it be some Crowes guise. 

Oftentimes to tell lyes. 

Yet this Crowes words dooth try. 

That her tale is no lye, ^ 
For thus it is and euer shall : 
please one and please all. [^.] 

[I have given a selection from the nineteen stanzas as a sufficient taste of their 
quality, — quite sufficient to please certainly one and please possibly all. — Ed.] 

27. Mai.] This error was quickly corrected in the Second Folio. Collier con- 
jectured that the speech may < in fact belong to Maria, Mai. having been printed 
instead of Mar.* 

29.' blacke . . . yellow] Collier : There was an old ballad tune called * Bladt 
and Yellow,' and to this Malvolio may allude. 

ACT III. sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 219 

legges : It did come to his hands^ and Commaunds (hall 30 

be executed. I thinke we doe know the fweet Romane 

01. Wilt thou go to bed Maluolio ? 

Mai, To bed ? I fweet heart, and He come to thee. 

OL God comfort thee : Why doft thou fmile fo, and 35 

kiffe thy hand fo oft ? 

Mar. How do you Maluolio ? 

Maluo. At your requeft : 
Yes Nightingales anfwere Dawes. 

Mar. Why appeare you with this ridiculous bold- 40 

neffe before my Lady. 

Mai. Be not afraid of greatneffe : 'twas well writ. 

OL What meanft thou by that Maluolio ? 

Mai. Some are borne great. 

01. Ha? 45 

Mai. Some atcheeue greatnefle. 

01. What fayft thou ? 

Mai. And fome haue greatnefle thruft vpon them. 

01. Heauen reftore thee. 

Mai. Remember who commended thy yellow ftock- 50 


01. Thy yellow ftockings/ 52 

30. Commaunds] F,. 39. Yes] Yes, F^, Rowc, + . Yes; 

31. the fweet] that sweet Rowe ii, + . Cap. et cet. 

33. thou] Om. Voss conj. 41. Lady^ Lady? Ff. 

35. fo,] Om. Voss conj. (reading 43. mean/i] Han. meaneft Ff et cet. 
God...kiffe as one line). 44, 46, 48, 50, 53, 55, ending with a 

38, 39. At... Dawes] Prose, Cap. et dash, Rowe et seq. (subs.) As quota, 

seq. tions, Han. Cap. et seq. 

38. requefl :] request! Rowe i. re- 52. 7>4y] .^ Lettsom, Dyce ii, Huds. 

quest f Rowe ii. Wh, ii. 

36. kisse thy hand] Deighton : Compare Othelloy II, i, 175, 'it had been 
better you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are most 
apt to play the sir in,' t. e. display your courtly manners, as Malvolio here fancies he 
is doing. 

38, 39. At your . . . Dawes] Deighton : What ! am I to answer the question 
when addressed by such as you are? yes, I will, for nightingales sometimes answer 
the notes of jackdaws, and therefore I may without loss of dignity answer the ques- 
tion of a mere servant like Maria. 

52. Thy yellow stockings ?] Dyce (ed. i) : Mr W. N. Lettsom would read 
' My yellow stockings !* for Olivia had no idea that Malvolio is quoting the letter ; 
and when he presently continues ' Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so,' 

220 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iv. 

MaL And wifh'd to fee thee crofle garter'd. 5 3 

OL Croffe gartered ? 

Mai. Go too, thou art made, if thou defir'ft to be fo. 55 

OL Am I made ? 

MaL If not, ler me fee thee a feruant ftill. 

OL Why this is verie Midfommer madneffe. 58 

53. And wiflCd^ wiflCd F^ Rowe i. 58. is verie\ is a very Theob. ii, Waxb. 

55. Go too;\ Go to, F^. Johns. Var. '73, '78, '8$, Ran. 

57. ler] F,. Midfommer] F,. 

she exclaims *Am /made ?* [Dyce adopted this conjecture in the text of his Second 
Edition (and tlierein was followed by Hudson, Whits (ed. ii), and Conrad), bat 
wisely deserted it in his Third Edition, on the true ground that the old text is 
'a mere re-echoing {sic] by Olivia of Malvolio's words.' Lettsom*s suggestion is 
unquestionably a happy one, as many a suggestion of his is, but I fear it verges too 
far toward improving Shakespeare. — Ed.] 

56. made] Dyce (ed. ii) : Manningham in his Diary [see Preface to the pres- 
ent volume. — Ed.] speaks of Olivia as being a 'widow'; and Mr Collier remarks 

^ that *in Rich's novel the lady Jul ina, who answers to Olivia, is a widow, but in 

Shakespeare she never had been married. It is possible that in the form in which 
the comedy was performed on Feb. 2, 1601-2, she was a widow, and that the author 
subsequently made the change ; but it is more likely, as Olivia must have been in 
mourning for the loss of her brother, that Manningham mistook her condition, and 
concluded hastily that she lamented the loss of her husband.' — Introd. to Twelfth 
Night. Mr Peacock, too, believes that Manningham has made a mistake in ' calling 
Olivia a widow.' — Preface to his translation of GV Ingannati, p. 6. But Mr 
Lettsom thinks very differently. On the present speech of Olivia, ' Am I made ?' 
he observes: *This, and Malvolio's speeches just above, show that Collier was 
wrong in supposing that Manningham mistook the condition of Olivia. In the play 
as we have it, this part has little comic power ; but nothing could have been more 
effective than the natural astonishment of the widow Olivia, when she heard her 
steward (as she understood him) talking of her yellow stockings, her cross-gartering, 
and finally of her virgin state ; for I have no doubt that Shakespeare originally wrote 
'•Am I maidP** [This seems to me extremely doubtful, unless Lettsom means 
that the present text is not that which Manningham heard. First, had Lettsom' s 
interpretation been intended, it is likely that the phrase would have been * Am I 
a maid ?' Secondly, at the very beginning of the play, Olivia is described as a 
'maid'; it would therefore cause her no surprise to be called one. Whereas she 
might well express utter bewilderment over the assurance that she had but to wish 
and her fortune would be 'made.' — Ed.] 

58. Midsommer madnesse] Steevens : ' 'Tis midsummer moon with you,' is 
a proverb in Ray's Collection ; signifying, you are mad. — Haluwell ' He wyll 
waze madde this mydsommer moone if you take nat good hede on hym.' — Pals- 
grave[p. 775, ed. 1852]. Again, 'And that your grace may see what a meer 
madnesse, a very mid- summer frenzy, 'tis to be melancholy, for any man that 
wants no monie.' — Chapman's Revenge for Honour, {I, i. Many other examples 
are added.] 

ACT in, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 221 

Enter SeruanL 

Ser, Madame, the young Gentleman of the Count 60 

Orjino^s is returned, I could hardly entreate him backe : he 
attends your Ladyfliips pleafure. 

OL He come to him. 
Good Mariay let this fellow be look d too. Where's my 
Cofme Tobyy let fome of my people haue a fpeciall care 65 

of him, I would not haue him mifcarrie for the halfe of 
my Dowry. exit 

Mai. Oh ho, do you come neere me now : no worfe 
man then fir Toby to looke to me. This concurres direft- 
ly with the Letter, (he fends him on purpofe, that I may 70 

appeare ftubborne to him : for (he incites me to that in 
the Letter. Caft thy humble flough fayes (he : be oppo- 
fite with a Kinfman, furly with feruants, let thy tongue 
langer with arguments of ftate, put thy felfe into the 
tricke of fmgularity : and confequently fetts downe the 75 

manner how : as a fad face, a reuerend carriage, a flow 
tongue, in the habite of fome Sir of note, and fo foorth . yy 

60. C(mnt'\DukeV^owt,-^, Ohy ho, Rowe, Theob. i. Oh, oh f 

63. him."] him, [Exit Ser.] Cap. Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. O, ho! Cam. 

64. ioo.^ to. FjF^. 68. now .•] now ? F^. 

65. Cofine\ Uncle Rowe ii, + . 69. fne,'\ me I Rowe. 
Toby,] 7V^/ Rowe. 70. Letter^'] letter; Theob. 

66. the halfe ^ Atf^ Theob. ii, Warb. 72-75. Caft,..fingularity\ As a quo- 
Johns, tation, Han. Cap. et seq. 

67. exit] Exeunt Oliv. and Mar. Cap. 74. langer with'] tang Cap. Dyce ii. 
Scene VIII. Pope, + . twang Huds. tang with Ff. et cet. 

68. Oh ho,] Ff, Pope, Han. Cap. 

61. entreate him backe] For other examples of the omission of the verb with 
adverbs implying motion, see Abbott, §§ 30, 32, 41. 

66. miscarrie] Schmidt (Lex,) supplies many examples of the use of this word 
in the sense of to come to grief or mischance. 

68. do you come neere me now:] W. A. Wright : That is, do you understand 
me now ? do you know who I am ? 

72, 73. opposite] See II, v, 140. 

74. langer] See Text. Notes, and II, v, 141. 

75. consequently] W. A. Wright : That is, accordingly, in accordance there- 
with. Compare /^ng John, IV, ii, 240 : * Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart 
consent. And consequently thy rude hand to act The deed, which both our tongues 
held vile to name.' [A better definition than that given by Schmidt {Lex.) of *pur- 
suantly, thereafter,' which denotes sequence in time. — Ed.] 

77. some Sir of note] See Deighton's quotation at line 36, from Othello ; also 
Wint, Tale, IV, iv, 390 : * O heare me breath my life Before this ancient Sir.' 

222 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. iv. 

I haue lymde her^but it is loues doings and loue make me 78 

thankefull. And when (he went away now, let this Fel- 
low be lookM too : Fellow ? not Maluolio^ nor after my 80 
degree, but Fellow. Why euery thing adheres togither, 
that no dramme of a scruple, no fcruple of a fcruple, no 
obftacle, no incredulous or vnfafe circumftance : What 
can be faide ? Nothing that can be, can come betweene 
me, and the full profpefl of my hopes. Well loue, not I^ 85 
is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked. 

Enter Toby ^ Fabian ^and Maria. 
To. Which way is hee in the name of fan£tity. If all 88 

78. lymde\ F,. limde F^. limdY^, Rowe ct seq. 

IMd Rowe. 83, 84. circumjiame,,, Nothing] cir- 

78, 85. loues ,,, loue] God*s „, God cunistance^ — what can be saidf — tufik- 

Hal. Huds. ing Perring. 

80. too] to Ff. 87. Scene IX. Pope,+. 

Fellow f] fellow f Rowe. 88. fawfiity,] f anility t Yi. 

83. circumftance:] circumstance — 

78. lymde] Johnson ; That is, I have entangled or caught her, as a bird is 
caught with birdlime. [Compare, Much Ado^ III, i, 109: 'Shee's tane ijimedy in 
the Qto) I warrant you, We haue caught her Madame.'] 

78. loues . . . loue] See II, v, 161. R. G. White with plausibility conjectured 
that we should here read Lov^s and Love, — Innes : It may be, however, that Mai- 
volio thought it more becoming to adopt the pagan adjurations of the court, in lieu 
of his previous puritanism. 

80. Fellow ?] Johnson : This word, which originally meant companion, was not 
yet totally degraded to its present meanmg ; and Malvolio takes it in the favourable 

82. scruple, no scruple of a scruple] Keightley (N. &» Qu. IlIrd, zii, 61, 
1867) : To understand this phrase, we must take the first and last ' scruple ' in the 
moral sense, the second as the weight, the third part of a dram. I owe this simple 
and natural explanation to J. J. A. Boase. [This is a virtual withdrawal of the 
reading: *no scruple of an ounce,^ in Keightley' s edition. Compzxe 2 Hen, IV: 
I, ii, 149 : ' But how I should be your patient to follow your prescriptions, the wise 
may make some dram of a scruple, or indeed a scruple itself.'] 

83. incredulous] Walker {Crit, i, 65) : This may be an erratum for incredible; 
yet I think not. — W. A. Wright : This appears to be here used in an active sense. 
Malvolio would say that nothing has occurred which would make him incredulous. 
For instances of adjectives used both in the active and passive sense, see Abdott, § 3. 

88. sanctity] Walker {Crit. iii, 88) : Certainly sanity ; — the same corruption 
has taken place in Hamlet ^ I, iii, early in the scene, — ' on his choice depends The 
sanctity and health of the whole stite * ; for there too sanity must be the right read* 
ing ; ' sanctity,* at any rate, is absurd. Compare heavily and heavenly^ Much Ado, 
V, iii, 22. [This emendation, more sure in Hamlet than here, is tempting. But Sir 
Toby's next words show a connection of thought with matters religious, whidi] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 223 

the diuels of hell be drawne in little^ and Legion himfelfe 
pofTeft him^ yet lie fpeake to him. 90 

Fab. Heere he is, heere he is : how id with you fir ? 
How ift with you man ? 

Mai. Go off, I difcard you : let me enioy my priuate: 
go off. 

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend fpeakes within him ; 95 

89. 0/ heW] in full Rowe, + , Cap. 93. priuate\ privacy Rowe, + , Coll. 
Var. Ran. Steev. Var. Knt, CoU. Su. ii, iii (MS). 

90. poJfefl\ possess Coll. MS. 

makes for retaining 'sanctity.' MoreoTer, rather than sanity^ should it not be 
insanity ?'~YXi.'\ 

89. drawne in little] In a note on < heauen would in little show/ As You Like 
It^ Illy iiy 139, Malone observes that the allusion is to a miniature portrait ; and 
Stexvens refers to ' give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture 
in little,' — Hamlet, II, ii, 383. — W. A.Wright : In the present passage, the phrase 
' drawn in little,' which has this technical meaning [t. e, in miniature], is used in the 
sense of ' contracted into a small compass ' ; the devils being supposed, as in Milton 
{^Par, Lost, i, 789), to have the power of altering their dimensions. 

89. Legion] This is taken from Mark, v, 9 : * And he asked him. What is thy 
name? And he answered, saying, my name is Legion ; for we are many.' Com- 
pare Hamlet, I, ii, 244: 'I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape,' etc. 

92. How ist with you man?] In the Cambridge Edition an Anonymous 
critic plausibly conjectures that this speech belongs to Sir Toby. It is not likely 
that Fabian put the very same question to Malvolio twice, addressing him first as 
' sir,' and then as ' man ' ; whereas the latter address comes more naturally from 
Sir Toby, Malvolio' s superior in rank. — Ed. 

93. my priuate] Collier (ed. ii) : 'Private' was doubtless (as the MS Cor- 
rector informs us) an error of the press ior privacie, as it was then commonly spelt 
Shakespeare no where else uses ' private ' as a substantive, unless idiomatically with 
the preposition in before it, — *in private.' — Dyce (Strictures y p. 77) : Shakespeare 
uses ' private ' as a substantive in the sense of ' secret or confidential communica- 
tion,' in King John, IV, iii, — * Whose private with me of the Dauphin's love,' etc.; 
and Jonson uses ' private ' as a substantive in the sense of ' particular interest or 
safety,' Catiline, III, ii, — * Nor must I be unmindful of my private,* etc. Is it not, 
therefore, far more probable that here ' private ' is used as equivalent to privacy than 
that the former word should be ' as the MS Corrector informs us,' a misprint for 
the latter ? Indeed, I do not doubt that examples of ' private ' signifying privacy 
are to be found in other early writers, though Shakespeare's commentators, never 
imagining that the old reading would be questioned, saw no necessity for searching 
them out — W. A. Wright: That is, privacy. Bacon {^Essay xxxiii, p. 141, ed. 
Wright) uses 'private' as a substantive, though not exactly in the same sense: 
' Besides some Spots of Ground, that any Particular Person, will Manure, for his 
own Private.* 

95. hollow] An irritating epithet to apply to Malvolio* s pompous, ore rotundo, 
style of speaking. And of all sources, to attribute it to a fiend ! — Ed. 

224 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iv. 

did not I tell you ? Sir Toby^ my lady prayes you to haue 96 

a care of him. 

MaL Ah ha, does (he fo ? 

To. Go too, go too : peace, peace, wee muft deale 
gently with him : Let me alone. How do you Maluoliol lOO 
How ift with you ? What man, defie the diuell : confider, 
he's an enemy to mankinde. 

Med. Do you know what you fay ? 

Mar. La you, and you fpeake ill of the diuell, how 
he takes it at heart. Pray God he be not bewitched. 105 

Fab. Carry his water to th'wife woman. 

98. Ah hay'\ Yiy Rowe, Pope, Han. loi. confider ^^ consider Kowt, Pope, 
j4Af ha. Cap. Ah, ah I Sta. Ah, ha / Han. 

Theob. et cet* 104. an£you\ Ff, Rowe, Coll. ii. if 

99. too, go ioo"] io, go to Ff {gO€ F,). you Pope, + . an you Cap. ct cet 
100. Let me] let him Rowe, Pope, 106. th'wi/e] Yi, Rowe, + , Wh. tht 

Han. vnse Cap. et cet. 

do you] do you do F^, Rowe i. 

98. does she so ?] I doubt the interrogation mark here. Though in the form 
of a question, it is spoken with an air of exultation, equivalent to *■ Aha, I knew 
that would happen.' — Ed. 

100. do you] Note the humorous turn which the Fourth Folio (it is hardly to 
be supposed intentionally) gives to this address. — Ed. 

104. La you] This is hyphened ' La-you ' in Wint, Tale, II, iii, 64, where there 
is the following note : Earle (§ 197) : ' La' is that interjection which in modern 
English is spelt lo. It was used in Saxon times both as an emotional cry and also 
as a sign of the respectful vocative. ... In modem times, it has taken the form of 
lo in literature, aud it has been supposed to have something to do with the verb 
to look. In this sense it has been used in the New Testament to render the Gre^ 
idov, that is, ' Behold !' But the interjection ' la ' was quite independent of another 
Saxon exclamation, viz. loc, which may with more probability be associated with 
locian, to look. The fact seems to be that the modem Ic represents both the Saxon 
interjections la and loc, and that this is one among many instances where two 
Saxon words have been merged into a single one. . . . While lo became the literary 
form of the word, la has still continued to exist more obscurely, at least down to a 
recent date, even if it be not still in use. La may be regarded as a sort of feminine 
lo. In novels of the close of the last century and the beginning of this, we see ia 
occurring for the most part as a trivial exclamation of the female characters. 

104. and you speake ill] How far Maria outshines her companions in the 
gentle art of exquisite teasing ! — Ed. 

106. wise woman] Douce (i, loi ) : Here may be a direct allusion to one of 
the two ladies of this description mentioned in the following passage from Hey- 
wood's play of 7%e Wise IVoman of Hogsdon : * You have heard of Mother Notting- 
ham, who for her time was prettily well skilled in casting of Waters ; and after her. 
Mother Bombye.' The several occupations of these imposters are thus described in 
this play of Hesrwood : ' Let me sea how many trades have I to live by : Fiist« I 

ACT III. sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 225 

Mar. Many and it (hall be done to morrow morning 107 
if I liue. My Lady would not loofe him for more then ile 

Mai. How now miftris ? I lO 

Mar. Oh Lord. 

To. Prethee hold thy peace^this is not the way : Doe 
you not fee you moue him? Let me alone with him. 

Fa. No way but gentleneffe, gently, gently : the Fiend 
is rough, and will not be roughly vs'd. 115 

To. Why how now my bawcockPhow doll f chuck ? 

Mai. Sir. 

To. I biddy, come with me. What man, tis not for 
grauity to play at cherrie-pit with fathan. Hang him foul 1 19 

107. andW] an it Knt. (misprint?). 1 18. I biddy ;\ Ff. Ay Biddy^ Rowe. 

108. loofe\ lo/e F^. Ay biddy ^ Pope. Ay, biddy, Theob. + , 

112. this tr] that is F^, Rowe,+. Cap. Wh. i. Ay, Biddy, Mai. et cet 

113. Let^.him.'] Om. F^F^, Rowe i. biddy, ..tfu"] As quotation, Coll. 

114. way but"] my F^F^. iii. 

116. benvcock] havock F^F^, Rowe i. 119. fathan\ Satan F^. 

117. 5i>.] Sir f Theob. et seq. (subs.) 

am a wise woman, and a fortune-teller, and under that I deale in physicke and 
forespeaking, in palmistry, and recovering of things lost. Next, I undertake to 
cure madd folkes,' etc. 

116. bawcock] Murray {N. £, D.) : Adopted from the French beau coq, 'fine 
cock,' for brwcock. A colloquial or burlesque term of endearment ; equivalent to 
Fine fellow, good fellow. Hen, V: IV, i, 44, 'The King's a Bawcock, and a 
Heart of Gold.' 

118. I biddy, come with me] Ritson {Remarks, p. 66) : This seems to be a 
scrap of some old song, and should be printed as such. [This suggestion, Malone 
said, had but little probability. It is, however, the general opinion at present that 
Ritson was right. — Ed.] — Malone : ' Come, Bid, come,' are words of endearment 
used by children to chickens and other domestic fowl. — Collier (ed. i) : This may 
be only a corruption of < I bid ye come with me,' or 'biddy' may be meant for a 
term of familiarity. It is most likely a quotation, though no original of it has come 
to light — Halliwell : Sir Toby had previously addressed him with the epithets 
'bawcock' and 'chuck' (chick), and now imitates the call used to chickens and 
poultry. — ^W. A. Wright : Probably the fragment of a song. 

119. cherrie-pit] Steevens: ' Cherry-pit ' is pitching cherry-stones into a little 
bole. Nash, speaking of the paint on ladies' faces, says : ' You may play at cheny 
pit in their cheekes.' [/'iVrr^ Penilesse, p. 45, ed. Grosart. As far as a mention 
of the game is concerned, it makes no difference where it is played, in paint, or in 
wrinkles. A verification of Steevens' s quotation, however, shows that there is no 
mention by Nash of ' the paint on ladies' faces ' ; Nash is speaking of ' old hack- 
sters in the wrinkles of whose face, yee may hide false dice, and play at cherry 
pit in the dint of their cheekes.' — Ed.] Again, in The Witch of Edmonton : 'I 
have loVd a witch ever since I play'd at cheny-pit.'[III, i.] 


226 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iv. 

Colliar. 120 

Mar. Get him to fay his prayers, good fir Toby gette 
him to pray. 

Mat. My prayers Minx. 

Mar. No I warrant you^ he will not heare of godly* 
nefle. 125 

Mai. Go hang your felues all : you are ydle (hallowe 
things, I am not of your element, you (hall knowe more 
heereafter* Exit 

To. Ift pofsible ? 

Fa. If this were plaid vpon a flage now, I could con- 130 
demne it as an improbable fiction. 

To His very genius hath taken the infection of the 
deuice man. 133 

120. CoUiar\ Collier F^. '73, et cet 

121. /ra^err,...Toby]F,. prayers,,,, 124. Mar.] Fab. Aooo. ap. Cam. 
Toby, F,F^, Rowe, Pope, Cam. Rife, 131. improbabW] unprofitable FJ?^ 
Dtn, Wh. ii. prayers,,., Toby ; Theob. Rowe i. 

Warb. Johns, prayers ;,,, Toby, Var. 1 33. deuice man] device, man Rowe. 

119. sathan] W. A. Wright: Satan is thus spelt eTeiywhere in Shakespeare. 
The form appears to have been derived from the Miracle Plays, for I do not find 
it in the printed translations of the Bible which were in existence in Shake- 
speare's time. 

120. Colliar] Johnson : The devil is called * Collier' for his blackness. ' Like 
will to like, quoth the Devil to the Collier.' — Steevens: 'Collier' was, in onr 
author's time, a term of the highest reproach. So great were the impositions prac- 
tised by the venders of coal, that Greene, at the conclusion of his Notable Discov- 
ery of Coosnage, 1 592, has published what he calls, * A Pleasant Discovery of tke 
Coosenage of Colliar s,* 

123. Minx] W. A. Wright : Of very certain meaning, but uncertain etymology. 
Cotgrave gives, ^ Gadrouillette : i, A minx, gigle, fiirt, callet, Gixie ; (a fained word, 
applyable to any such cattell.)' Again, *Obereau: A hobbie (Hawke;) also, a 
young minx, or little proud squall.' It is used also for a lapdog in Udall's transla- 
tion of the Apophthegmes of Erctsmus (ed. Roberts, 1 877), p. 143 : ' There ben litle 
minxes, or pupees that ladies keepe in their chambers for especial iewels to plajre 
withall.' In the same passage < mynxe ' is the translation of Meliteeus. The word 
may possibly be derived from the mink or minx, the name of which is believed to 
be of Swedish origin (mcenk)\ and from the fur-bearing animal it may have been 
transferred, on account of some fancied resemblance, to a long-haired lapdog, and 
afterward applied, like puppy, puss, and vixen, to animals of a superior order. 
Some, however, connect 'minx' with 'minnekin.' 

127. element] See I, i, 31 and III, i, 58. 

132. very genius] W. A. Wright : The familiar spirit which was supposed to 
govern a man's actions; here used for the spiritual nature. Sir Toby would say, 
' The plot has taken possession of his very soul.' 

ACT III, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 22/ 

Mar. Nay purfue him now^leaft the deuice take ayre^ 
and taint 135 

Fa. Why we fhall make him made indeede. 

Mar. The houfe will be the quieter. 

To. Come, wee'l haue him in a darke room & bound. 
My Neece is already in the beleefe that he's mad: we may 
carry it thus for our pleafure^ and his pennance, til our ve- 140 
ry paflime tyred out of breathy prompt vs to haue mercy 
on him : at which time^ we wil bring the deuice to the bar 
and crowne thee for a finder of madmen : but fee^but fee. 

Enter Sir Andrew. 

Fa. More matter for a May morning. 145 

An. Heere's the Challenge^ reade it: I warrant there's 
vinegar and pepper in't 

Fab. Ift fo fawcy ? 

And. I9 ift? I warrant him : do but read. 

To. Giue me. 1 50 

134. lea/f\ Uft F^. 149. /, iftr\ F,. /, tit? F,F^. Ay, 

137. will be\ well be Y^. i^tf Rowe, + , Cap. Var. Mai. Ay^ 
139. beleefel beUife F,. belief T^^. is't. Coll. Dyce, Wh. SU. Glo. Cam. 

^j] he is Johns. Var. Ran. Ay, is it^ Steev. et cet 
Mai. Steev. Var. Knt, Hal. Ktly. read^ read it Ktly. 

144. Scene. X. Pope, + . 150. due'] (PtW/ Lettsom ap. Dyce. 
Enter...] After line 145, Sta. 

134, 135. take ayre, and taint] That is, exposed, and our fun, therefore, 
spoilt — Ed. 

138. darke room] Compare As You Like It, III, ii, 382, < Lone is meerely a 
madnesse, and, I tel you, deserues as wel a darke house and a whip, as madmen 

143. finder of madmen] Johnson : This is, I think, an allusion to the witch- 
finders, who were very busy. — Ritson {^Remarks, p. 67) : 'Finders of madmen' 
are those who formerly acted under the writ De Lunatico inquirendo ; in virtue 
whereof ihcy found the man mad, 

145. May morning] Steevens : It was usual on the first of May to exhibit 
metrical interludes of the comic kind, as well as the morris-dance. — Tollet {Note 
appended to i Hen. IV,) quotes as follows from Stowe*s Survay of London: *I 
finde also, that in the Moneth of May, the Citizens of London (of all estates) 
lightly in euery Parish, or sometimes two or three Parishes iointng together, had 
their seuerall Mayings, and did fetch May-poles, with diuers warlike shewes, with 
good Archers, Morice-dauncers, and other deuices for pastime all the day long : and 
towards the Euening, they had Stage-playes, and Bonefiers in the streets.' [p. 151, 
ed. 1618.] 

149. warrant him] Deighton : ' Him ' is the person challenged, Cesario ; datire 
case, I give my word to him that, etc. 

228 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. iv. 

Youth y wfiat/oeuer thou art^ thou art but a fcuruy fellow. 1 5 1 

Fa. Goody and valiant. 

To, Wondernot^noradfnire not in thy mmdewhy I doe call 
thee fo^ for I will fliew thee no reafonfor't. (Law 

Fa, A good note, that keepes you from the blow of ^ 155 

To, Thou cotnjlto the Lady Oliuia, andin my fight five vfes 
thee kindly : but thou lyefl in thy throaty tliat is not the matter 
I challenge thee for. 

Fa, Very breefe, and to exceeding good fence-leffe. 1 59 

151. [Sir Toby reads. Rowe. 159. and to\ Ff, Coll. Wh. Dyce, 

153. admire not] admire F^F^, Cam. Sta. Ktly, Rife, and Rowe et 

Rowe i. cet and thereto Lettsom. and^ too, 

155. good'\ very good 'Rovrt i. Kinnear. 

156. comil] F,. comm*(l F^. com' ft good'^ good, Hal. 

F^. contest "^tl. /ence'lejff'e,'\/ence'leffe,Y^,/en/e- 

157. throat,] throat; Coll. Wh. -Uffe, F^. fen/e-lefs. F^ ct seq. (jtense- 
Dyce, Cam. /rj^Cap.) 

153. nor admire not] For the double negative, see Abbott, § 406, or Shake- 
speare /ojjtm. For a triple negative, see III, i, 163. For < admire' used, as here, 
in its Latin sense, see Tempest, V, i, 179 : 'I perceiue these Lords At this encounter 
doe so much admire That they deuoure their reason.' 

157. lyest in thy throat] Staunton i^Note on 2 Hen. IV: I, ii, 94): 'To lie in 
the throat,' an expression which is frequently met with in Shakespeare, appears to 
have borne a deeper meaning than is usually supposed. In a curious old treatise on 
War and the Duello, which has escaped the researches of all the commentators, 
entitled Vallo Libro Cofitinente appertenentit ad Capitanii, etc. [ The Buhoark, 
A Book containing whatsoever appertains to Captains, in holding and fortifying a 
city with bastions, with a new kind of fire added [? aggioti"] as appears by the plates, 
and of divers powders, etc. etc.], 1 5 24, there is a chapter in the part devoted to the 
duello, which is headed ' Delia Divisione del Mentire ' [On the Division of Giving the 
Lie'\, and which contains the following remarks on giving the lie : — ' And observe 
that an honourable man, when he gives the lie is wont to say thou dost not speak 
the truth ; another will give the lie by saying thou dost lie in thy throat ; another 
by saying thou liest in thy throat like a scoundrel, and yet another by saying thou 
liest in thy throat like the scoundrel that thou art ; thus each phrase is in advance 
of its predecessor, and differs from it ; for example, if a man should say thou liest 
in thy throat like a scoundrel, it is not to be understood that his opponent is called 
a scoundrel, but lies in his throat as a scoundrel would lie in like case ; and he must 
not quarrel and fight as if he had been called a scoundrel ; while if the words are : 
thou liest in thy throat like the scoundrel that thou art, then a quarrel and encounter 
result from his having been called a scoundrel and from this "as thou art" ' — 
[Staunton gives merely the old Italian ; he does not translate it, — ^perhaps wisely. 
It is open to doubt that the passage fully justifies his assertion that the ' lie in the 
throat ' bore a deeper meaning than is usually supposed. We all know that ' thou 
liest in thy throat' is stronger than simply 'thou liest,' and this is really all that 
the quotation shows. — ^Ed.] 

159. and to exceeding] R. G. Whits (ed. i) : If Fabian had said, 'Veiy 

ACT in, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 229 

To J will way 'lay thee going homey where if it be thy chance 1 60 
to kill me. 

Fa, Good. 

To, T/iou kUJl me like a rogue and a villcdne. 

Fa. Still you keepe o'th windie fide of the Law:good. 

Tob. Fartheewelly and Godhaue mercie vpon one of our 165 
foules. He may haue mercie vpon minCj but my liope is better ^ 
andfo looke to thy f elf e, TJiy friend as thou vfejl him^ & thy 
fwome enemicy Andrew Ague-cheeke. 

To. If this Letter moue him not^ his legges cannot : 
He giu't him. 170 

Mar. Yon may haue verie fit occafion fot't : he is now 
in fome commerce with my Ladie ^ and will by and by 

To. Go fir Andrew : fcout mee for him at the comer 174 

161. me] me — Rowe, + . me, — 165. one of ] Om, F^F^, Rowe i. 

Cap. et seq. 169. To.] Om. Han. Cap. Coll. Wh. 

163. kilft] F,. kill'ft FjF^. Hal. Dyce, Cam. 

165. Fartheewell,] F,. Fare the 171. Y<m,,,f<^t\ F,. 
well, F3. Fare thee well, F^. 

brief, and to exceeding good purpose^ adding ' less ' aside, there would hare been 
no obscurity found, yet no more exists now than would have existed then. 

159. sence-lesse] Halliwell : This word is to be either divided in pronuncia- 
tion, or to be spoken aside. On the stage the latter arrangement is the most effective. 

164. o'th windie side of the Law] W. A. Wright : So that the law cannot 
scent you out and track you, as a hound does the game. [Unquestionably the right 
definition ; and yet, at the same time, it is possible that Fabian may be punning 
upon his previous speech, where he says, < a good note which keepes you from the 
blew of the Law.* — Ed.] 

166. mercie vpon mine] Johnson : We may read < upon thine,* etc. Yet the 
passage may well enough stand without alteration. It were much to be wished that 
Shakespeare, in this, and in some other passages, had not ventured so near profane- 
ness. — M. Mason : The present reading is more humorous than that suggested by 
Johnson. The man on whose soul he hopes that God will have mercy, is the one 
that he supposes will fall in the combat ; but Sir Andrew hopes to escape unhurt, 
and to have no present occasion for that blessing. The same idea occurs in Henry 

V, where Mrs Quickly, giving an account of Falstaff's dissolution, says, ' Now I, to 
comfort him, bid him a' should not think of God ; I hoped there was no need to 
trouble himself with any such thoughts yet.' 

169. To. If this, etc.] These words are merely Sir Toby's remarks after he has 
finished reading the letter. < To* is therefore needless and was omitted by Hanmer, 
and by some of the best subsequent editors. 

172. commerce] That is, intercourse. Ophelia asks Hamlet, 'Could beauty, my 
lord, have better commerce than with honesty?' Ill, i, no. 

174. scout mee] The ethical dative ; see Abbott, § 220. 

230 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. SC. iv. 

of the Orchard like a bum-Baylie : fo foone as euer thou 175 
feed him, draw, and as thou draw^ft, fweare horrible .* for 
it comes to paffe oft, that a terrible oath, with a fwagge- 
ring accent (harpely twang'd off, giues manhoode more 
approbation, then euer proofe it felfe would haue eam'd 
him. Away. 1 80 

A7id. Nay let me alone for fwearing. Exit 

To. Now will not I deliuer his Letter : for the behaui- 
our of the yong Gentleman, giues him out to be of good 
capacity, and breeding : his employment betweene his 
Lord and my Neece, confirmes no leffe. Therefore, this 185 
Letter being fo excellently ignorant, will breed no terror 
in the youth : he will finde it comes from a Clodde-pole. 
But fir, I will deliuer his Challenge by word of mouth ; 
fet vpon Ague-cheeke a notable report of valor, and driue 
the Gentleman (as I know his youth will aptly receiue it) 190 
into a mod hideous opinion of his rage, skill, furie, and 
impetuofitie.This will fo fright them both, that they wil 
kill one another by the looke, like Cockatrices. 193 

175. bum-BaylU] bum-Baily Ff, . 179. ^amV] ^<znf^^ Var. '03, et seq. 
hum-bailiff Theob. bum-baUie Knt 182. his\ this F,F^, Rowe i. 

176. drav/Jf] drawest Coll. Wh. i, 184. employment'] imployment F^. 
Hal. Dycc, Cam. 185, 195. Neece"] F^F^. Neice F,. 

horrible] AorriblyF{,Rowt,-k-, 1S7, Jlnde it] find thai it F^F^ 

Cap. Var. Ran. Coll. iii. Rowe, + . 

177. /] F,. 193. Scene XI. Pope, + . 

175. bum-Bayli«] Johnson {Diet.) : A bailiff of the meanest kind, one that is 
employed in arrests. — Murray ( A^. £. D.): The bailiff that is dose at the debtor's 
back, or that catches him in the rear. Compare the French eqniralent pottsse-cnl. 

176. sweare horrible] For adjectives used as adrerbs, see Abbott, § i. 
179. approbation] Schmidt {Lex,) : That is, attestation. 

193. Cockatrices] Murray {N E, Z>.) : Middle English coeatris, -ice, adopted 
from Old French coeatris, mascaline, corresponding to Provencal calcatrit, Italian 
calcatrice, feminine representative of the Latin calc&trix, calctktricem, apparently a 
mediaeval rendering of the Greek Ixvei/tuv, ichnumon. This last meant literally 
< tracker, tracer out, hunter out,' formed on i;p>e{^-eiv to track, trace out, hunt out, 
formed on Ixvoc track, footstep. Latin calcatrix is feminine agent-substantive of 
ealchre, originally < to tread,' in mediaeval Latin ' to tread on the heels of, track, 
trace out' (formed on calx, calcem, heel). Thus calcatrix came to render ichneu- 
mon, (Prof. Thor Sundby, Brunetto Latino^ s Livnet og Skrifter, Kj5benhavn, 
1869, p. 142-4.) In Old French the word was partially popularized, as seen by 
the phonetic change of the original cole- through caulc to cauc-, coc-t and chauc-, 

The sense-history of this word is exceedingly curious. The Ichneumon, an 

ACT III, sc. iv.] OB, WHAT YOU WILL 23 1 

[193. kill one another by the looke, like Cockatrices] 
Egyptian quadruped, said to devour reptiles and crocodiles' eggs (which it searches 
ibr in the sand), is called by Pliny, VIII. 24 (35), § ^, the mortal enemy of the 
aspis and the crocodile. As to the latter, he tells that when the crocodile is asleep 
or dozing with its jaws open, the ichneumon darts down its throat, and destroys it 
by gnawing through its belly ; a tale originating, partly at least, in the habits of the 
bird trockiiuSf as mentioned by Herodotus. . . . From an early period, Western writers 
entertained the notion that this ichneumon was amphibious or aquatic ; the imme- 
diate followers of Pliny appear to hare identified it with the Otter. Pliny's tale is ; y^ 
repeated by Solinus and Isidore ; in the text of Solinus known to Ammianus Mar- 
cellinus (about a. d. 400) the animal is called enhydros, the second kind of ichneu- 
mons ; while Isidore appears to make two distinct animals, the Ichneumon and the 
Enhydros, * a little beast so-called because it lives in the water, and mostly in the 
Nile.' But the Greek hnfSpic was not only the o/teTf but also a water-snake^ 
hydrus; and the latter was the only sense in which enkydris liad been used by 
Pliny. Later compilers took this to be the sense of enkydrus^ -os, in Solinus and 
Isidore, and the crocodile's enemy was now described as a * water-snake' or ' fish.' 
. . . Meanwhile also the Latinixed name calcatrix comes into view. It is found, along 
with the transformed description, in the version of the story {circa 1263) by Brunetto 
Latino in Li Livre dou Trescr^ where it is said ' then comes another fish which is 
named kydrus^ that is cocatris, and enters within his body ' ; further, ' and you 
must know that cokatrix, albeit he is bom in the water, and within the Nile, he is 
not at )dl a fish, but is a water-serpent.' . . . The cocatris^ickneumcn^ enkydris » 
kydruSf having thus been transformed into an aquatic reptile, living in the Nile, 
other writers proceeded to identify it with the crocodile itself. The Bestiaire divin 
of Guillaume le Normand {circa 1 210) makes coqucUrix the crocodile, and ydrus 
his enemy. . . . And in later French, as well as in other Romanic languages, * croco- 
dile' became, at least, one of the recognized meanings of cacatrix. ... In English 
the confusion with crocodile hardly appears, except once or twice as a literalism of 
translation. Here, cocairice appears from the first as the equivalent of Latin basi- 
Useus or regulus equivalent to Basilisk. It was thus used ... by Wyclif and his fol- 
lowers to translate regulus (Isaiah, xi. 8 ; ziv. 29 ; lis. 5) and basiiiscus (P^ zc. 
[i.] 13) of the Vulgate. In die former of these (also in Jer. viii. 17) it was retained 
in the 16- 17th cent versions ; but in the revised text of 1885, >^ ^^^ \itcn changed to 
katihsk. The history of this further transition of sense is still obscure ; but it is to 
be noticed that cocairice translates French bcuilicocy and that coc is apparently a con- 
necting link. But some traditional notions of the ichneumon as the enemy of the 
as^ (which appeared later in the well-known statement that the only animal which 
oonld kill the basilisk was the mmtela or weasel) were probably contributory, as 
well as the mediaeval confusion, under the name regulus, of the basilisk [rex ser* 
Pentium) with the trochilus {rex avium^ Old French roytelet, in modem French 
roiielet, * wren ' ). Further etymological speculation, in France or England, working 
upon the syllable coc, coq, in basili-coc, coc-atris, probably also associating the crested 
basilisk with the crested bird, and mingling with it vague notions of the crocodile's 
eggs, buried in the sand, and producing a tiny reptile, originated the well-known 
notion of <a serpent hatched by a venomous reptile from a cock's (1. e, basili-coc^ s 
or cok-adriWs) egg,' embodied in the heraldic monster, half cock, half serpent 

[Its definition is] i. A serpent, identified with the Basilisk, fabulously said to kill 
by its mere glance, and to be hatched from a cock's egg. 

232 TWELFE NIGHT [act ill. sc. iv. 

Enter Oliuia and Uiola. 

Fab.H^^T^ he comes with your Neece, giue them way 195 
till he take leaue^ and prefently after him. 

To. I will meditate the while vpon fome horrid meflage 
for a Challenge. 

01. I haue faid too much vnto a hart of (lone, 
And laid mine honour too vnchary on't : 200 

194. Enter...] After line 198, Coll. 199. I haue] Pve Pope, + , Dyce ii, 

195. way] away F^. iii. 

198. Challenge,] Challenge, Exeunt. 200. onU] Ff» Rowe, Pope, Han. 

Ff. Knt, Coll. Wh. i,Rlfe. M^Theob.etcet 

194. Enter...] In the Folios and Quartos the entrances are frequently set down, 
for the benefit of the prompter, some lines in advance of the actual entrance of the 

200. laid . . . vnchaiy on't] Capell (p. 150) : <Lay'd out' is exposed, (W. A. 
Wright : It rather means expended.) — Douce (i, 103) : Theobald's substitution of 
aui is unnecessary. The old text simply means, I have placed my honour too incau- 
tiously upon a heart of stone. — Dyce {F(nv Notes^ p. 76) : I must exclaim against 
their [t. e. Douce, Knight, and Collier] thrusting back into the text an obvious error 
of the press. The misprint of ' on't' for out is common enough. So the Qto 1640 
of Fletcher's Bloody Brother^ IV, i, has, — 'Princes may pick their suffering nobles 
on't, And one by one employ them to the block,' etc. — where the other old copies 
have, as the sense requires, 'm«/.' So, too, in Fletcher and Shakespeare's Two 
Noble Kinsmen^ I, iv, the Qto 1 634 has * Y'are ont of breath,' where the Second 
Folio (the play is not in the first) gives ' out^ With the passage of Shakespeare now 
under consideration, compare the following lines by a nameless dramatist : ' Keepe 
her from the Serpent, let her not gad To euerie Gossips congregation. For there is 
blushing modestie laide out,* etc. — Euerie Woman in her Humour, 1 609, sig. H3. 
— Collier (ed. ii) : Mr Dyce, who is too apt to justify one corruption by another, 
argues in favour of out, and shows by divers instances that the word may have been 
misprinted ; it is unquestionable that < to lay out* is a very conmion expression ; but 
so is 'to lay on*t,* and as it affords a distinct meaning, is repeated in all eariy edi- 
tions, and is unamended by the MS Corrector, we prefer to make Olivia say poet- 
ically that she has laid her honour on a heart of stone, as it were, on an altar, than 
prosaically to observe merely that she has incautiously laid out her honour. — Dyce 
(ed. ii) : Alas for Mr Collier's reasoning! The explanation which he gives of his 
text ought alone to have convinced him that 'on't' was a misprint Olivia might 
perhaps talk with propriety of ' laying her love on a heart of stone ' ; but with no 
propriety could she talk of Maying her honour on a heart of stone.' The genuine 
lection, ' And laid mine honour too unchary out,' means ' And have been more 
prodigal in expressing and giving proofs of my affection than was strictly consistent 
with my honour.' — ^W. A. Wright: 'Unchary' is unsparingly, lavishly. The 
word etymologically signifies heedlessly, carelessly; but that Shakespeare under- 
stood it in the other sense is evident from Hamlet, I, iii, 36 : ' The chariest maid is 
prodigal enough. If she unmask her beauty to tlie moon ' ; where < chariest ' and 
'prodUgal' are contrasted. Theobald's change is at once justified and rendered 

ACT ni, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 233 

There's fomething in me that reproues my fault : 201 

But fuch a head-ftrong potent fault it is, 
That it but mockes reproofe. 

Vio. With the fame hauiour that your paflion beares, 
Goes on my Mafters greefes. 205 

OL Heere, weare this lewell for me, tis my pifture : 
Refufe it not, it hath no tongue, to vex you : 
And I befeech you come againe to mprrow. 
What (hall you aske of me that He deny, 
That honour (fauM) may vpon asking giue. 210 

Uio. Nothing but this, your true loue for my mafter. 

01. How with mine honor may I giue him that. 
Which I haue giuen to you. 

Via. I will acquit you. 

OL Well, come againe to morrow : far-thee-well, 2 1 5 

202. Uisy'l it is: F^F^. (honour fav'd) FjF^, Rowe i, Johns. 

204. hauiour\ 'i<K/iV»r Theob. + . Coll. Ktly. That honour mt/d Pope, 

204. 205. that your„.greefes] Sepa- Theob. Warb. Johns. Cam. 
iBte line. Cap. conj. 210. may} I ntay Ktly. 

205. Goes,.,greefes\ Yi (griefs F F^). giue,} give? F^. 

Goes.,. grief Rowe, -\-, Cap. Var. Hal. 211. this, your] this; your Coll. 

Cam. Dyce ii, iii, Ktly, Rife, Huds. Wh. Wh. ii. this,— your Dyce. this;— 

n. Go„.griefi Mai. et cet. your Cam. 

210. That honour (fau'd)] That 213. you,] you f Ff. 

necessary by this meaning of * unchary.' In Wint. Tale, IV, iv, 160, * He tells her 
something That makes her blood look out'; the Folios read <on*t' as here. — 
Dkighton : For * laid out * compare Cym. II, iii, 92 : * You lay out too much 
pains For purchasing but trouble.' — Schmidt (Gesammelte Abhandlungen, p. 327) : 
That is, I have thereon wagered my honour too incautiously, I have set it too care- 
lessly on the hazard. That * lay ' has this meaning must be familiar to every com- 
mentator ; it occurs again in the last line of this same scene : ' I dare lay any money, 
'twill be nothing yet.' The change which the editors have adopted : * laid out,^ is, 
possibly, quite un-Shakespearian ; in place of the signification which it is said that 
' lay out ' bears, namely, to expose, Shakespeare elsewhere uses the phrase ' to lay 
open,' and Dyce, in order to justify the change, is obliged to take refuge in a quota- 
tion from Every Woman in her Humour, If the Folio had ont it would be possible 
to conjecture a misprint for out, but *■ on't,' with an apostrophe, would be set up by no 
negligent compositor instead of out, [The fact that in The Winter's Tale,(W, iv, 
186, of this ed.) and elsewhere, out has been misprinted on't, with the apostrophe, 
seems to demand Theobald's change. Schmidt's interpretation is to me by no 
means the true one, albeit Rolfe inclines to accept it. — Ed.] 

206. lewell] Johnson : This does not properly signify a single gem, but any 
precious ornament or superfluity. — W. A. Wright : From the Old French joiei^ 
joelf oxjouel, a diminutive of joie, which is the Latin ^audium. 

234 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iv. 

A Fiend like thee might beare my foule to hell. 216 

Enter Toby and Fabian. 

To. Gentleman , God faue thee. 

Vio. And you fir. 

To. That defence thou haft, betake the too't : of what 220 
nature the wrongs are thou haft done him, I knowe not : 
but thy intercepter full of defpight, bloody as the Hun- 
ter, attends thee at the Orchard end : difmount thy tucke, 
be yare in thy preparation, for thy aflaylant is quick, skil* 
full, and deadly. 225 

Vio. You miftake fir I am fure, no man hath any quar- 
rell to me : my remembrance is very free and cleere from 
any image of offence done to any man. 

To. You'l finde it otherwife I aflure you : therefore, if 
you hold your life at any price, betake you to your gard : 230 
for your oppofite hath in him what youth, ftrength, skill, 
and wrath, can furnifli man withall. 232 

216. /i>ff4/]^-i>yf^ Grey (so quoted, 223. Orchard end'\ wckard-end 

i» 234). Theob. + , Dyce, Cam. Sta. 

h€lL'\ hell. Exit Ff. 226. fir I am fure ^"l F,. fir^ I am 

Scene XII. Pope, + . fure^ F,F^ (ame F^), Cap. Sir^ I am 

220. the tpo't'] thee Mt F,. thte tdt sure Rowe, Pope, Hao. Sir^ lam sure; 
FjF^. Knt, Wb. i, Dyce i, Sta. Sir; I am 

221. him^ him; F,. sure^ Theob. et cet. 

222. intercepier'\ intercepter ^ Pope. 23a gard'\ guard FJ^^. 
interpreter^ Warb. (corrected in MS) 232. man"] a man Fjp^t Rowe, Pope, 
Johns. Han. 

22a defence thou hast] For the construction, see I, ▼, 99. 

222. 323. bloody as the Hunter] Capbll ( Glots, s. ▼. lethe) : A term ns'd bj 
Hunters to signify the blood shed by a deer at its fall, with which it is still a custom 
to mark those who come in at the death. 

223. dismount thy tucke] W. A. Wright : In plain English, draw thy sword. 
The hangers or straps by which the rapier was attached to the sword-belt are called 
in the affected language of Osric the < carriages ' {J/amlet, V, i, 158), and Sir Toby's 
* dismount' is in keeping with this phraseology. A tuck was a small rapier. Cot- 
grave gives, * Verdun^ m. The little Rapier, called a Tucke.' The word comes to 
us from the French estoc, which Cotgrave defines as * The stocke, trunke, orbodieof 
a tree, . . . also, a Rapier, or tucke.' In Florio's Worlde of IVordes, 1598, we find, 
' Stocco, a truncheon, a tuck, a short sword, an arming sword.' 

224. yare] That is, ready, nimble. See, if need be, notes on Temp, I, i, 8. 
226, 227. quarrell to me] Compare Much Ado, II, i, 226, < The Lady Beatrice 

hath a quarrell to you'; or Arboti* ({ 187) for examples of the various uses of to^ 
without verbs of motion ; here ' to ' means against, 

232. withall] Abbott (§ 196) : This emphatic form of with is used for 
after the object, at the end of a sentence. 

ACT III, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 23 S 

Vio. I pray you fir what is he ? 233 

To. He is knight dubbM with vnhatchM Rapier, and 
on carpet confideration, but he is a diuell in priuate brail, 235 

234- ^igkt^ knight^ Thcob. a knight Cap. Var. Ran. Steev. Var. Wh. i, 
CoU. MS, Wh. i, Walker, Coll. iii. Dyce u, iii. 

vnhaich'd^ unhacf^d Pope, + , 235. brall^ brawl FjF^. 

234. vnhatch'd] Malons: It appears from Cotgrave's definition of ^Hacker, 
To hacke, shread, slice ; hew, chop, . . . also, to hatch a hilt,' that hatch was a tech- 
nical term. Perhaps we ought to read, — < with an hatched rapier,' i, e, with a rapier, 
the hilt of which was engraved and ornamented. Our author, however, might have 
used 'unhatch'd' in the sense oiunhacked ; and therefore I have made no change. 
— Dyce (Remarks^ p. 76) : In Shirley's Ltrve in a Mau, II, ii, we find: 'Thy 
hair is fine as gold, thy chin is hatch'd With silver,' etc. < i. /.' says Gilford, < orna- 
mented with a white or silvery beard. This . . . explains the passage in Tro, &• 
Cress,{l, iii], « As venerable Nester hatch'd in silver," on which the commentators 
have wasted so many words. Literally, to hatch is to inlay [originally, I believe, 
to cut, engrave, mark with lines]; meUphorically, it is to adorn, to beautify, with 
silver, gold, etc. [also to colour or stain]. 'Shirley's fVorhs, ii, 301. That the 
word hatch was particularly applied to the ornamenting of weapons, might be shown 
from many examples besides the following : ' Who first shall wound through others 
armes, his blood appearing fresh. Shall win this sword, siluerd, and hatcht.' Chap- 
man's J/iads of Honur, b. xxiii, p. 324. < Dote on my horse well trapp'd, my sword 
well hatch'd. 'Beaumont & Fletcher, Bonduca^ II, ii. ' Hatching is to silver or gild 
the hilt and pomell of a sword or hanger.' R. Holme, Ac, of Armory^ 1688, b. iii, 
p. 91. Now, since hatch was a very common technical term for the ornamenting of 
weapons, is there any probability that Shakespeare would have employed the 
expression ' unhatchcd rapier' in the sense of ' unhacked rapier'? Surely not An 
*unhatched rapier' could only mean *an unomamented rapier'; which does not 
suit the context, for carpet-knights were most likely to have the ceremony performed 
with a highly ornamented sword. ... I am therefore strongly inclined to agree with 
those commentators who have supposed that the right reading is ' unhacked rapier.' 
[Staunton, however, agrees with Malone in thinking that we ought to read ' an 
hatched rapier,' which is indeed, if emendation be necessary, plausible ; the words 
might be readily confused in the compositor's ear. As for the spelling, we find 
'retchlesse' for reckless in The Marriage of Witt and fVisdome, 1579, p. 54, ed. 
Shakespeare Society. Thus here, though I should be loath to alter the text, I think 
that 'nnhatch'd' bears the meaning of unhacked. — Ed.] 

235. on carpet consideration] Capell (p. 150) : The 'unhack'd rapier' was 
lay'd on most unmercifully about the time of this play ; and for making something 
too free with this profusion of carpet knighthoods, divers poets and players are said 
to have been lay'd by the heels, and, among the rest, Ben Jonson. A most small 
matter serv'd at that time of day for the exercise of even greater severities, so that 
'tis wonder the expressions of this passage drew none upon Shakespeare : Middleton 
the poet, for a well-intention' d play of his writing, call'd A Game at Chess, but 
which gave offence to the Spaniard, got himself into prison ; where he lay some 
time (says a MS that has been seen by the editor), but was at last discharg'd upon 
presenting the petition that follows : ' A harmless game, coin'd only for delight. 
Was play'd betwixt the black house and the while : The white house wan ; yet still 

236 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. iv. 

foules and bodies hath he diuorc'd three, and his incenfe- 236 
ment at this moment is fo implacable, that fatisfaflion 
can be none, but by pangs of death and fepulcher : Hob, 
nob , is his word : giu^t or take't. 

Vio, I will returne againe into the houfe, and defire 240 
feme condu6l of the Lady. I am no fighter, I haue heard 

236. diuorc'd three^'] divorc'd; three 239. nobi nod Rowe ii, Pope. 

F^. 2^1, fighter,"] fighter. Kowt, 

the black doth brag She had the power to put me in the bag : Use but your ro3ral 
hand, 'twill set me free; 'Tis but removing of a man, that's — me.* — Rked: Id 
Francis Markham's Booke of Honour, 1625, p. 71, we have the following account 
of Carpet Knights : * Near vnto these in degree, (but not in qualitie, for these are 
truly (for the most part) vertuous and worthie) is that ranke of Knights which are 
called Carpet- Knights, being men who are by the Princes Grace and favour made 
Knights at home and in the time of peace by the imposition or laying on of the 
King's sword, having by some special service done to the common- wealth, or for 
some other particular vertues made known to the sovereign, as also for the dignitie 
of their births, and in recompense of noble and famous actions done by their ances- 
tors, deserved this great title and dignitie.' He then enumerates the several orders 
of men on whom this honour was usually conferred, and adds : * these of the vulgar 
or common sort, are called Carpet- Knights, because (for the most part) they receiue 
their honour from the King's hand in the Court, and vpon Carpets, and such like 
Ornaments belonging to the King's State and Greatnesse ; which howsoever a curi- 
ous envie may wrest to an ill sense, yet questionlesse there is no shadow of disgrace 
belonging unto it, for it is an honour as perfect as any honour whatsoever, and the 
services and merits for which it is conferred, as worthy and well deserving both of 
the King and country, as that which hath wounds and scarres for his witnesse.' — 
Steevens : In Baret's Alvearie, 15S0, [the following definition is given of ' Bos 
ad prasepe. A Prouerbe to be applied agaynst] those which doe not exercise them- 
selues with some honest affaires ; but seme abhominable and filthy idlenesse, and 
as we vse to call them carpet knightes.' B. ante 0.[956]. — W. A. Wright: By 
employing the term ' consideration ' Sir Toby implies that Sir Andrew's honours had 
been purchased. ' [Burton {Anat, Part I, Sect. 2, Memb. 2, Subs. 2) speaks con- 
temptuously of Carpet Knights. — Ed.] 

238. can be none] For *can' see 'Is best,* III, iii, 45. For * none,* see 
•she'll none,' I, iii, 100. 

238, 239. Hob, nob] Murray {JV. E. Z>. s. v. Hab")\ Known in the phrases 
hah nab, hab or nab from circa 1 5 50. Conjectured to represent some part of the 
verb Have, presumably the present subjunctive, Old English hcebbe, early southern 
Middle English habbe, in conjunction with the corresponding negative form Old 
Eng. nabbe. Mid. Eng. nabbe ; the alternative phrase habbe he, nabbe he, equivalent 
to ' have he or have he not,' accounts fairly for the sense, and answers phonolog- 
ically ; but there is a long gap in the history, between the general disappearance of 
the habbe forms of the verb in Mid. Eng. and the first examples of hab nab. [Of 
this hab nab, Dr Murray {s, v. Hob-nob) thinks that * Hob nob * is in origin appar- 
ently a variant, and quotes the present line ; where Shakespeare really gives the 
meaning which he himself attached to it, namely, ' giu 't or take 't'] 

ACT III. sc. iv.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 237 

of fome Idnde of men, that put quarrells purpofely on o- 242 
thers, to tafte their valour : belike this is a man of that 

To. Sir, no : his indignation deriues it felfe out of a ve- 245 
ry computent iniurie, therefore get you on, and giue him 
his defire. Backe you shall not to the houfe, vnlefTe you 
vndertake that with me, which with as much fafetie you 
might anfwer him : therefore on, or ftrippe your fword 
ftarke naked : for meddle you muft that's certain, or for- 250 
fweare to weare iron about you. 

Vio. This is as vnciuill as (Irange. I befeech you doe 
me this courteous office, as to know of the Knight what 
my offence to him is : it is fomething of my negligence, 
nothing of my purpofe. 255 

To. I will doe fo. Signiour Fabian^ ftay you by this 
Gentleman, till my retume. Exit Toby. 

Via. Pray you fir, do you know of this matter ? 

Fab. I know the knight is incenft againft you, euen to 
a mortall arbitrement, but nothing of the circumftance 260 

243. tafte\ test Coll. conj. 249. <>r] and Han. Om. Coll. MS. 

245. Sir^ no:'\ No^ Sir. no: Han. your f'w<frd'\ you of sward Ktlotl, 
deriues'\ drives F^, Rowe, Pope. ap. Cam. 

246. computent'\ competent F^, Rowe 252. as vnciuil/'] an uncivil Cap. 
et seq. (corrected in Errata), Var. '73. 

Aim"} Om. F^F^. 253. ^ce, as /<?] ofice, to Cap. 

249. Aim .'] Aim / F,. to Aim ; Han. 

241. condudl] Compare, 'Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavory guide' — Rom, 
^JuL V, iii, 116. 

243. to taste] That is, to test See III, i, 79. 

244. quirke] That is, caprice. Cotgrave has : * Scotin : m. ine : f. Difficult, 
intricate, obscure, full of quirkes and quiddities.' 

246. computent] I am by no means certain that this word should be discarded 
for the Fourth Folio's * competent' Had Shakespeare ever used the verb compute^ 
there would be no question as to 'computent'; Murray (A^. E. D.) gives no 
examples of it earlier than 1631. — Ed. 

250. meddle 3fOU must] M alone : Afterwards, Sir Andrew says — 'Pox on't, 
I'll not meddle with him.' The vulgar yet say, 'I'll neither meddle nor make 
with it' 

253. this courteous office, as to know] Abbott (§ 280) : We now use only 
sucA with as, and only tAat with wAicA, Since, however, sucA was frequently used 
with wAicAf naturally tAat [in the present case tAis"] was also used with as used for 
wAicA, [See also lines 263, 264 below : ' Nothing of that wonderful promise ... as 
yon are like,' etc.] 

238 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. iv. 

Vio. I befeech you what manner of man is he ? 262 

Fab. Nothing of that wonderfull promife to read him 
by his forme, as you are like to finde him in the proofe of 
his valour. He is indeede fir, the mod skilfuU, bloudy,& 265 
fatall oppofite that you could pofsibly haue found in anie 
part of lUyria : will you walke towards him, I will make 
your peace with him, if I can. 

Vio. I (hall bee much bound to you for't : I am one, 
that had rather go with fir Prieft, then fir knight : I care 270 
not who knowes fo much of my mettle. Exeunt. 

Enter Toby and Andrew. 272 

262. you what\ you, what F^F^. Hyce, Sta. Hads. Act IV, iv. Irring. 

263. promife to\ promise^ to Cap. The Street adjoining OliTia'a 
267. niyrid] lUirya F^. Garden. Dyce, Sta. Huds. 

Aim,"] Aim F F^. 272. Andxevr] Andrew Aitngittg' 6acJt. 

272. Scene XIII. Pope, + . Scene V. Coll. ii (MS). 

270. sir Priest J Johnson : He that has taken his first degree at the University 
is in the academical style called Dominus, and in common language was termed Sir. 
[See notes on ' Sir Topas,' IV, ii, 4.] 

271. mettle] Schmidt (Lex,)i Constitutional disposition, character, temper. 
So also in V, i, 337. 

271, 272. Exeunt. Enter Toby and Andrew.] Capell (p. 150) : This 'Exe- 
unt' appears to be wrong from Sir Toby's pointing to them at line 281 : * Fabian 
can scarce hold him yonder'; indeed the action is hurt by it ; the effect is lost of 
the gestures and looks of both parties under their separation. — Dyce disagrees with 
Capell to such an extent that he here begins the Fifth Scene, in < the Street adjoin- 
ing Olivia's garden,' and conmients thereon as follows : Sir Toby, before going out, 
has desired Fabian to * stay by this gentleman ' (Viola) till his return from talking 
with Sir Andrew ; a little after, Fabian says to Viola, * will you walk towards kim * 
(sir Andrew)? and accordingly makes his exit with her. Sir Toby now enters 
accompanied by Sir Andrew ; and though the Folio does not mark a new scene, it is cer- 
tain that, previous to the entrance of the two knights, the audience of Shakespeare's 
days (who had no painted movable scenery before their eyes) were to suppose a 
change of scene. Presently Antonio enters, draws his sword in defence of Viola 
(whom he mistakes for Sebastian), and is arrested by the Officers; and from the 
speech of the First Officer, in V, i, 64, we learn distinctly where his arrest t(X>k 
place : ' Here in the streets^ desperate of shame and state, In private brabble did we 
apprehend him.' — Sir Andrew, then, was waiting for the pretended page ' at the cor- 
ner of the orchard,' line Z74, ' at the orchard-end,' line 223, — that is, in the street at 
the extremity of Olivia's orchard or garden ; there Sir Toby had joined him ; and 
thither Fabian and Viola walk. I may add that the rather unsatisfactory stage- 
arrangements here were in a certain degree forced upon Shakespeare ; he found it 
necessary to get rid of Viola while Sir Toby was terrifying Sir Andrew with an account 
of his antagonist's ferocity. (Since writing the above, I have examined a modem 
acting copy of the play ; in it the scene is changed here from * A Room in Olivio^s 
house ' to ' Olivia's garden.' ) — Marshall : In the acting-edition of this play, as pre- 

ACT in, sc. iv.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 239 

To. Why man hee s a verie diuell, I haue not feen fuch 273 
a firago : I had a pafTe with him^ rapier, fcabberd^and all : 

274. firago\ Yi^ Var. *2I, Coll, Dyce, virago Rowe et cet. 
Cam. Sta. Ktly, Rife, Huds. Wh. ii. 274. fcabberd^ fcabbet^ d F,. 

pared for the Lyceum Theatre, Scene iv. of Act IV. commences here, the place being 
The Orchard End, There can be no doubt that a change of scene is necessary 
here. — Cambridge Editors : The Fourth Scene is continued in the Folios, and as, 
in all other instances throughout the play, the beginning of each scene is accurately 
marked, we have thought it best to follow them in this. According to the Folios, 
Fabian and Viola leave the stage just as Sir Toby and Sir Andrew enter, and, not 
meeting them, may be supposed to return to the place appointed in lines 239, 240 
[lines 256, 257 of the present text — Ed.] Capell, contrary to the directions of 
Uie Folios, keeps Fabian and Viola on the stage. They are, indeed, all the 
while within sight of Sir Toby, as appears from lines 268, 269 [i. e. 2S0, 281 of 
present text], but not necessarily visible to the audience. The comic effect would, 
no doubt, be heightened if Fabian were seen using all his efforts to prevent Viola 
from running away, but this is scarcely a sufficient reason for deserting our only 
authority. [On a stage like Shakespeare's, which made such a constant demand 
on the imagination, — where merely a grey veil thrown over the head made the 
wearer invisible to his fellow-actors, — it is conceivable that the two couples 
might have obeyed the stage-directions of the Folios, when at Exeunt they 
retired a few paces, and Re-entered by advancing, and all the while have remained 
but a few paces apart, in full sight of each other and yet be supposed to be beyond 
earshot ; as Toby left Viola he was supposed to have made his exit, and to have 
re-entered as he joined Andrew. D3rce reminds us that Shakespeare's audience 
had to suppose a change of scene, owing to the lack of painted scenery, and yet, 
at the same time, talks of ' streets ' and ' orchards,' — as though these streets and 
orchards were portrayed before the eyes of Shakespeare's audience. Shakespeare's 
audience heard only the text, and believed whatever was told them. If they were 
told that Antonio was arrested in the street they so accepted it, though, for all that 
their eyes actually saw, he was arrested in what at one time they had been told was 
Olivia's chamber. I agree entirely with Capell that the two groups — Andrew and 
Toby, Viola and Fabian — were both, at the same moment, on Shakespeare's stage 
at least, in sight of each other and of the audience. Possibly^ Sir Toby's asser- 
tion that 'Fabian can scarce hold him yonder' (interpreted as depicting Viola's 
attempts to run away), is become the pernicious source of the conversion of 
Viola's exquisite bearing throughout, into low farce. But it must be borne in 
mind that Sir Toby's description of Fabian's struggles with Viola (which Sir 
Andrew could have seen for himself, but he was too limp to perceive anything but 
his own peril) was as veracious as that Viola had given him the stuck in, with rapier, 
scabbard, and all. — Ed.] 

274. firago] Johnson : * Virago ' cannot be properly used here, unless we sup- 
pose Sir Toby to mean, I never saw one that had so much the look of a woman with 
the prowess of a man. — Steevens : A virago always means a female warrior, or, in 
low language, a scold, or turbulent woman. In Hey wood's Golden Age, 1611, 
Jupiter enters * like a nymph or virago ' ; and says, * I may pass for a bona-roba, a 
xonnceval, a virago, or a good manly lass.' [II, i, p. 30, ed. Shakespeare Soc] If 

240 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iv. 

and he giues me the (lucke in with fuch a mortall motion 275 
that it is ineuitable : and on the anfwer, he payes you as 

275. Jlucke in\ stuck — in Johns. Sing. 
stuck'in Cap. Var. Mai. Steev. Var. 276. iiuuUabW] invitable F^. 

Wh. i, Sta. Dyce ii, iii, Ktly. Stuckin you] your F,. 

Shakespeare (who knew Viola to be a woman, though Sir Toby did not) has made 
no blunder, Dr Johnson has supplied the only obvious meaning of the word. 
' Firago' may, however, be a ludicrous word of Shakespeare's coinage. — M alone: 
Why may not the meaning be more simple, ' I have never seen the most furions 
woman so obstreperous and violent as he is'? I do not conceive that 'firago' is a 
word of Shakespeare's coinage, but a common corruption for virago^ like fagaries 
for vagaries. — RrrsoN (p. 65) : The word 'virago' is certainly inapplicable to a 
man, a blustering, hectoring fellow, as Sir Toby means to represent Viola ; for he 
cannot possibly entertain any suspicion of her sex ; but it is no otherwise so, than 
rounceval is to a woman [see the foregoing quotation from He3rwood], meaning a 
terrible fighting blade ; from Roncesvalles, the famous scene of the fabulous combat 
with the Saracens. — Coluer : It may be spelt * firago ' perhaps with allusion to the 
word 'devil* in the preceding part of the sentence. — W. A. Wright : Sir Toby's 
corruption of inrago, or else a word of his own coinage. If < fire-eater ' had been 
in existence at the time, 'firago' might be a hybrid between this and '▼ingo.' 
[' Firago ' seems &r more expressive than the tame ' virago ' ; there is in it a sug- 
gestion oijiref fury, Jiend, ferocious, all combined. — Ed.] 

275. stucke in] Steevens: The 'stuck' is a corrupted abbreviation of the 
Stoccata, an Italian term in fencing. So in Tlie Retume from Parnassus, 1606 : 
'I, beare is a fellow, ludicio, that carryed the deadly stock- [ado] in his pen.' [I, ii, 
p. 87, ed. Macray.] Again, Marston's Second Part of Antonio and Mellida, 1602 : 
*I would passe on him with a mortall stocke'[I, iii. See Rom, ^ Jul, III, i, 79 : 
'Alia stoccata carries it away.' I think Capell erred in joining ' stuck' and 'in' 
with a hyphen ; ' in,' I believe, qualifies ' give,' that is, ' gives me the stuck home,' 
and probably it was so understood by Dr Johnson, who placed after ' stuck ' not a 
hyphen, but a dash. Possibly, Sir Toby uttered the ' in ' after < stuck ' with great 
emphasis, accompanied with a manual illustration on the breast of Sir Andrew which 
was well devised to reduce him to abject terror. What the ' stuck ' or stoccata is we 
learn from Vincentio Saviolo his Practise, 1595 : * let the scholler obserue the same 
time in going backe as the teacher shall, . . . and let him lifte vp his other hand with 
his ward on high, that he be not stricken on the face with the mandritta, or in the 
belly with the thrust or stoccata. Wherefore at the selfe same time that the scholler 
shall deliuer the foresaide stoccata to the teacher, the teacher shall yeelde and 
shrinke with his bodye, and beate the stoccata outward on the left side.' — p. 9, 
verso, — Ed.] 

276. ineuitable] That is, what Shakespeare calls, in Othello, ' unshunnaUe.' 

276. on the answer] Thus, Vincentio Saviolo his Practise : ' As the Scholler 
parteth in the counter time, hee must in the same instant breake the stoccata with 
his lefte hande, and aunswere againe with the other : also the Maister, to make his 
scholler quicke and readye, shall vse to aunswere him in the same time that his 
scholler deliuereth his stoccata,' etc., p. 17. — Ed. 

376. he payes you] Malone : That is, he hits yon. 

ACT ni, sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 24I 

furely, as your feete hits the ground they ftep on. They 277 
fay, he has bin Fencer to the Sophy. 

And. Pox on^t, He not meddle with him. 

To. I but he will not now be pacified, 280 

Fabian can fcarfe hold him yonder. 

An Plague on't, and I thought he had beene valiant, 
and fo cunning in Fence, I'de haue feene him damn'd ere 
Fde haue challenged him. Let him let the matter flip, and 
He giue him my horfe, gray Capilet. 285 

To. He make the motion : (land heere, make a good 
(hew OTi\ this fhall end without the perdition of foules, 
marry He ride your horfe as well as I ride you. 

Enter Fabian and Viola. 
I haue his horfe to take vp the quarrell,! haue perfwaded 290 
him the youths a diuell. 

Fa. He is as horribly conceited of him : and pants, & 
lookes pale, as if a Beare were at his heeles. 

To. There^s no remedie fir, he will fight with you for^s 
oath fake : marrie hee hath bette r bethought him of his 295 
quarrell, and hee findes that now fcarfe to bee worth tal- 

277. hits'] FL hit Rowe et seq. Cap. 

278. bin] been YL 290. take vp] make up Knon.tL'p.CBBi. 

279. He] He F,. rie F^F^. 291. youths] youth's F^F^. 

280. Prose, Cap. et seq. 292, 293. [Aside. Cap. 

281. yonder] Om. Rowe. 292. as horribly] horribly Rowe, 

282. and I] if I Pope, Han. an I Pope, Han. 

Theob. et seq. 294. To.] To. [to Viola.] Cap. 

285. him] you Anon. ap. Cam. fi^^^ fi^ ^^ ^tX. Sleev. Var. 

Capilet] Capulet Dyce, Huds. Knt. 

287. foules,] fouls; F^, Rowe. 295. oath fake] oath's sake Cap. Coll. 

288. [Aside. Theob. ii. oath-sake Dyce. 

289. Viola.] Viola unwillingly. Coll. hath] had Theob. ii, Warb. 
MS. Johns. Var. Ran. 

290. /...quarrell] Separate line, Sta. 296. fcarfe to bee] to be scarce Cap. 
[To Fabian. Rowe. Aside, conj. 

278. Sophy] See II, v, 169. 

285. CapUet] W. A. Wright : < Capul ' was a north-country word for a horse, 
and |x>ssibly < capilet' may be a diminutive of this. Murray (iV. E. D. s. v. Caple, 
capul) gives a quotation from Land Cokaygne, as early as circa 1 290 : 'Hors, no 
capil, kowe, no ox,' which adds probability to Wright's suggestion. 

290. to take vp] See As You Like It, V, iv, 100 : * I knew when seuen lustices 
could not take vp a Quarrell.' 

292. horribly conceited] M alone : That is, he has as horrid an idea or con- 
ception of him. [Compare Othello, III, iii, 174: 'From one, that so imperfectly 

242 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iv. 

king of : therefore draw for the fupportance of his vowe, 297 
he protefts he will not hurt you. 

Vio. Pray God defend me : a little thing would make 
me tell them how much I lacke of a man. 300 

Fab. Giue ground if you fee him furious. 

To, Come fir Andrew^ there's no remedie, the Gen- 
tleman will for his honors fake haue one bowt with you: 
he cannot by the Duello auoide it : but hee has promifed 
me, as he is a Gentleman and a Soldiour, he will not hurt 305 
you. Come on, too't. 

And. Pray God he keepe his oath. 

Enter Antonio. 

Vio. I do aiTure you tis againft my will. 309 

297. wiev,] vow; Cap. 507. Scene XIV. Popc, + . 

299. Vio.] Vio. [Aside.] Cap. 308. Enter...] After line 309, Dyce, 

302. To.] To. [Go to Andrew.] Coll. Cam. Sta. Enter... draws, and rani 

MS. ap. Cam. between, (after line 309) Cap. 

306. [They draw. Rowe. 309. [to Sir And. draws. Cap. 

307. [draws. Cap. 

297. supportance] That is, maintaining or upholding. Schmidt (Lex.^ for- 
nishes an example of its use literally, as a support, or prop : * Give some supportance 
to the bending twigs.' — Rich, II: III, iv, 32. 

304. by the Duello] The earliest example of the use of this form, given by 
Murray (A^. E. D,) is from Lov^s Lab, L, I, ii, 185, so that one might almost 
attribute its introduction to Shakespeare. * Duellum,' an adoption from the mediaeval 
Latin, dtullum (an ancient form of Latin bellum)^ dates from 1284. *Duel' is 
found in Coryat's Crudities^ 1611. For * duelling, as a practice, having its code of 
laws,' Murray quotes Tomkis, Aibumazar, 1615 : * Understand'st thou well nice 
points of duel? ... by strict laws of duel I am excused To fight on disadvantage.'^ 
IV, vu. 

309. I do, etc.] Spbdding {Frasen^i Maga, Aug. 1865, p. 266) : That the 
humours of the duelling scene will ever be brought back within the text of Shake- 
speare, and the limits of ^^^^^miii^. mirth, is more than we can hope. Managers can 
hardly be expected to sacrifice a piece of farce, which always makes the audience 
very merry, though Shakespeare has evidently taken pains to preserve Viola from 
the ridiculous attitude in which it places her, and she can never be seen as she was 
meant to be until it is reformed. . . . Viola, it must be remembered, has to sustain 
the part of a young gentleman, who must not seem to be afraid of a drawn swotd, 
or unused to handle one. If she cannot contrive to avoid the fight handsomely, the 
resource she looks to is not flight but confession, — a confession of her disguise. 
< Pray God defend me,' she says to herself when it is coming to extremity, < a litde 
thing would make me,' — not, take to my heels, — but *tell them how much I lack of a 
man.' How she would have done it we do not know ; but we may be sure she 
would have known how to do it gracefully and without loss of feminine dignity. 
But being a person of great feminine (though not masculine) courage, of remark- 

ACT ni. sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 243 

AnU Put vp your fword : if this yong Gentleman 3 10 

Haue done offence, I take the fault on me : 
If you oi!end him, I for him defie you. 

To. You fir ? Why, what are you ? 

Ant. One fir, that for his loue dares yet do more 
Then you haue heard him brag to you he will. 315 

To. Nay, if you be an vndertaker, I am for you. 

312. [Drawiog. Rowe. 316. [Draws. Rowe. 

able composure and presence of mind and ready wit, she reserves that for the last 
extremity ; hoping by judgement, gentleness, pacific bearing, and intervention of 
Providence, to avoid the necessity of so inconvenient a disclosure. Of the attempts 
to run away, and the dragging back and pushing on by main force, it is not enough 
to say that there is no trace in the original text ; they are inconsistent with it For 
up to the very last, when there seemed to be no chance of escape left, the only evi- 
dence she had given of the fear which she had such good right to feel, was < panting 
and looking pale.' And even when she is obliged to draw her sword, or prepare to 
draw it (for it is doubtful whether Shakespeare intended to expose her to so severe a 
trial as the actual crossing of weapons), her words are still calm, and such as any 
gentleman might have used — ' I do assure you, 'tis against my will.' Indeed, from 
the beginning to the end of the adventure she neither does nor says anything (her 
complexion and the beating of her heart excepted) that would have misbecome a 
well-behaved, peaceful 3roung gentleman, who disliked to be drawn by a bully into a 
brawl. She acts throughout with discretion, intelligence, and a collected judgement. 
. . . She goes forward to the place where the danger is ; and there is not the slightest 
indication that she is either pushed or pulled ; so far, therefore, she has contrived to 
perform her part without betraying more than had appeared before in her countenance 
and behaviour. And when it comes at last to a crisis, in which she must either have 
disgraced her man's apparel or betrayed her secret, the sudden appearance of Antonio 
rescues her from the indignity. Now we submit that this struggle between woman's 
fear and woman's courage, wit, and self-respect, — gently, gracefully, bravely, and 
successfully carried through under very trying circumstances, — is much finer comedy, 
as well as much more in harmony with the sentiment of the play, than the mere 
terrors and perplexities of a young woman frightened out of her wits at the idea of 
a naked sword, — though executed to perfection. The inward sinking of the heart 
may be made visible enough to the audience without any display of unseemly terror. 
[These brave words of Spedding cannot be too thoroughly digested. A reluctance 
to engage in a street brawl, with an unknown ruffian, for no known cause, cannot be, 
in any age, attributed in a gentleman to cowardice. It seems to me that Shake- 
speare has taken special pains to guard Viola from all imputation of pusillanimity. 

316. an vndertaker] Tyrwhitt : At the meeting of the parliament in 1614, 
there appears to have been a very general persuasion, or jealousy at least, that the 
King had been induced to call a parliament at that time, by certain persons who had 
undertakeHy through their influence in the House of Commons, to carry things 
according to his Majesty's wishes. These persons were immediately stig^matized 
with the invidious name of undertakers ; and the idea was so unpopular that the 

244 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi. sc. iv, 

Ente r Officers. 317 

Fab. O good fir Toby hold : heere come the Officers. 

To. He be with you anon. 

Vio. Pray fir, put your fword vp if you pleafe. 320 

And. Marry will I fir : and for that I promised you He 
be as good as my word. Hee will beare you eafily , and 
raines well. 

\-Off. This is the man, do thy Office. 

2 Off. Antlwnioj I arreft thee at the fuit of Count Orfino 325 

An. You do miftake me fir. 

i*Off. No fir, no iot : I know your fauour well : 
Though now you haue no fea-cap on your head : 328 

317. Enter...] After line 323, Dyce, 323. raines\ rains F^. reins Kowt. 

Sta. Coll. iii. 325. Anthonio.../»t/] One line, Cap. 

Officers.] Officer. F^. Mai. Steev. Var. Knt, Coll. Wh. i, 

319. [to Antonio. Cap. Dyce, Sta. Ktly. 

320. [To Sir And. Rowe. Cottn/] Duke Rowe, -i- . 
/word'\ word F^, Rowe. 

King thought it necessary to deny positively (how truly is another question) that 
there had been any such undertaking. Sir Francis Bacon also (then attomey>gen- 
eral) made an artful, apologetical speech in the House of Commons upon the same 
subject : < when the house (according to the tide of the speech) was in great heat, 
and much troubled about the undertakers.' — Ritson : 'Undertakers* were persons 
employed by the King's purveyors to take up provisions for the royal household* and 
were no doubt exceedingly odious. But still, I think, the speaker intends a quibble ; 
the simple meaning of the word being one who undertakes, or takes up the quarrel 
or business of another. — M. Mason: I am of Ritson' s opinion. Dyck {Gloss,) 
also adopts it. — W. A. Wright : In the Authorised Version of Isaiah xxxviii, 14, 
'Undertake for us ' signifies ' Be surety for us.' There is no reason to suppose that 
Sir Toby uses it with any more contempt than is naturally felt for a meddlesome per- 
son. At the beginning of the 17th century, it signified what we should now call a 
' contractor,' and Bacon in his speech in the House of Commons concerning the 
Undertaker says : < I had heard of Undertakings in several kinds. There were 
Undertakers for the plantations of Derry and Coleraine in Ireland, the better to 
command and bridle those parts. There were, not long ago, some Undertakers for 
the north-west passage ; and now there are some Undertakers for the project of dyed 
and dressed cloths.' — Life and Letters , ed. Spedding, v, 43. [Inasmuch as we now 
know that this play was acted in 1 601-2, a meaning attached to 'undertakers' in 
1614 can hardly carry much weight ; and yet that the term was an opprobrious one at 
least five years earlier we learn from Ben Jonson's Dedication to T^e Silent Woman^ 
1609, where he says that he would rather be ' freed in my fame by the authority of a 
judge than the credit of an undertaker,' that is, he would prefer the vindication of such 
men as Sir Francis Stuart than the applause of men, the iniquity of whose nature, he 
says further on, he hated. The ' undertakers ' in the parliament of 1 614 were prob- 
ably so called because the name was already disgraceful, or, as Tyrwhitt says, 
* invidious.' — Ed.] 

ACT in. sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 245 

Take him away, he knowes I know him well. 

Ant. I muft obey. This comes with feeking you : 330 

But there^s no remedie, I fhall anfwer it : 
"What will you do : now my neceflitie 
Makes me to aske you for my purfe. It greeues mee 
Much more, for what I cannot do for you, 
Then what befals my felfe : you (land amazM, 335 

But be of comfort. 

2 Off, Come fir away. 

Ant. I muft entreat of you fome of that money. 

Vio. What money fir ? 
For the fayre kindnefle you haue fhewM me heere, 340 

And part being prompted by your prefent trouble, 
Out of my leane and low ability 
He lend you fomething : my hauing is not much. 
He make diuifion of my prefent with you : 
Hold, there^s halfe my Coffer. 345 

Ant. Will you deny me now, 
Ift poffible that my deferts to you 347 

330. obey."] obey, [To Viola.] Coll. Cap. 

332, 333. do :.,.pur/e,'\ do,, .. purse f 337. away\conu awayYSS.^, 

Dyce. Sta. Cam. Rife. doe?,,. purfe, 341. part being] part, being Ca^, 

Ff, Rowe et cct. 343. hauing"] Having Theob. Warb. 

334. more, for] more; for ¥^,¥.0^^, Johns, 

jvt^r^y^ Coll. Dyce, Sta. Cam. much,] much; Theob. 

336. But be] Be F^F^. 345. therms] there is Han. Steev. Var. 

337-339. Com£ ,„fir?] Two lines, Knt, Hal. 

endmgyou„.flrf {xfAding money back.) 346. now,]nowf FJF^, 

328. sea-cap] Halliwell quotes the following note from Fairholt : The ' sea- 
cap ' of the Shakespearian era appears to have been generally composed of fur, as 
^ypears from Ammon's curious book De omnibus Iliiberalibus sive Mechanicis 
Artibus^ 1574* 

330. with seeking jfou] For examples of a similar use of with, see Abbott, 
5 193, p. 128. 

341. And part] That is, partly. See Othello, V, ii, 363: 'This wretch hath 
pan confest his Villany.' 

343. xny hauing] That is, possession. See As You Like It, III, ii, 362 : * for 
simply your having in beard is a yonger brothers revenew.' Schmidt's Lex, fur- 
nishes many examples. 

344^ diuision of xny present] After ' present,' money or store is understood. 
For examples of adjectives used for nouns, see Abbott, § 5* p. 20. 

345. Hold] Walker {Crit, iii, 88) and Abbott (§512, p. 424) would make this 
a separate interjectional line ; retaining < there's ' of the Folio. 

246 TWELFE NIGHT [act hi, sc. iv. 

Can l^cke perfwafion. Do not tempt my mifery, 348 

Lead that it make me fo vnfound a man 

As to vpbraid you with thofe kindnefTes 350 

That I haue done for you. 

Vio. I know of none, 
Nor know I you by voyce, or any feature : 
I hate ingratitude more in a man, 

Then lying, vainneiTe, babling drunkennefle, 355 

Or any taint of vice, whofe ftrong corruption 
Inhabites our fraile blood. 

AnL Oh heauens themfelues. 

2.0 ff. Come fir, I pray you go. 

Ant. Let me fpeake a little. This youth that you fee 360 
I fnatch'd one halfe out of the iawes of death, (heere, 

348. h.cke\ F,. drunkenness Steev. et cet. 
per/wafion,'] per/uqfioH f Ff. 358. /*^a««M] //>«»* lu Rowe, + . 

349. Leaft'^ Left F^. 359. pray you go] pray you Uoyd 
352. none,] none. Ff. ap. Cam. 

355. fyingf vainnejfe, babling drunk- 36a fpeake"] but speak Han. 

enneffe] Ff, Rowe i, + , Cap. Var. Ran. 360, 361. a iUtle,.. heere f] SqMUWte 

Mai. lying vainness^ babbling drunk- line (reading IVhy^ ihis yo$Uk) Han. 

enness Rowe ii (ap. Cam.), Coll. Sing. 361. deatky] deaik ; Theob. 
Ktl J, Cam. ii. lyings vainness^ babbling. 

349. Least that] For the construction, see I, ii, 53. 

355. lying, vainnesse, babling drunkennesse] Collier: 'Lying' and * bab- 
bling ' are not to be taken as substantives, but as participial adjectives. [See Text, 
Notes.] — W. A. Wright: The reading of Rowe, ed. ii. appears to be the best 
In Steevens*s arrangement there is no sequence or climax in the four things which 
are stigmatised as vices, and it is better to take the words in pairs, with an adjec- 
tive and substantive in each pair. — Deighton : There seems to me a cumuladve 
force which is lost by adopting Rowe*s reading. [In my copy of Rowe ii. there is a 
faint battered comma after ' lying,* which may well have disappeared in subsequent 
impressions. Steevens was absurdly wrong in placing a conmia after 'babbling.' 
I much prefer to take the words in pairs, as Collier and Wright suggest. — Ed.] 

355. vainnesse] This, Schmidt {Lex,) defines as 'falseness'; W. A. Wright 
as ' boastfulness.' Schmidt overlooked the tautology in ' lying falseness.' 

359. Come sir, etc.] Walker {Crit, iii, 89) : Arrange, perhaps, — 'Come, sir, 
I pray go. (Not " I ^tbj you go." Yet I doubt) Let me speak a little | This youth, 
that you see here, | I snatch' d one half,' etc. [If these sentences were properly 
pronounced on the stage, no human ear could detect these divisions which Walker 
reconmiends. — Ed.] — K. Elze (p. 184) : The words ' a little,' besides spoiling the 
metre, impress the reader as ridiculously superfluous, and have probably slipped from 
their original place, which was in the second half of the preceding line. I suspect 
the original wording to have been somewhat as follows : ' Come, sir, I pray you ga 
Tarry a little \ And let me speak. This youth that you see here, | ' etc. 

ACT III. sc. iv.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 247 

ReleeuM him with fuch fan£litie of loue ; 362 

And to his image^ which me thought did promife 

Mod venerable worth, did I deuotion. 

i.Off. What's that to vs, the time goes by : Away. 365 

AnL But oh, how vilde an idoll proues this God : 

Thou haft Sebajlian done good feature, (hame* 

In Nature, there's no blemifh but the minde : 

None can be called deform'd, but the vnkinde. 

Vertue is beauty, but the beauteous euill 370 

362. hue;'\ Ff, Han. Cam. Huds. 366. vilde\ F,Fj. vild F^, Rowe, 
hue, Kowe, + , Glo. Urue, — Cap. et cet. Knt. viU Pope. 

363. his\ tkis Walker, Huds. God:^ god: FJ^. God! F^. 
me thougki'\ metkoughi Kowe. 367. feature, Jkame"] F,. feaiun 

364. venerable^ veritable Coll. ii, iii Jhame, F^F^. 

(MS). 370. beauteous euill"] beauteom-eznl 

365. vs,] Ff. Rowe i. us? Rowe ii. Mai. Steev. Var. Dyce, Sta. 

362. such sandlitie of loue ;] Capell placed a dash after ' love/ as an incom- 
plete sentence. Walker was so impressed with this incompleteness that he sajrs 
(Of/, iii, 89) < a line seems to have dropped out after " love," for the onlj meaning 
which (as the passage stands) *' such " can possibly have, is inadmissible. I would 
read and point : *< I snatch' d one half out of the jaws of death ; | Relieved him ; 
with such sanctity of love [a line omitted] And to this image, which methought did 
promise," etc. The emendation of this for '* his " I have also proposed [in Crit, ii, 
222], where see other instances of the confusion between these two words.' — Hud- 
son : The context, I think, fairly requires the sense of all instead of ' such.' Much 
might more easily be misprinted < such,' but is not strong enough for the place. The 
occurrence of ' idol ' in the last line shows Walker's emendation, ' thb,' to be right. 
Antonio does not mean that he has been worshipping an image of the supposed 
Sebastian, but that what he has taken for something divine turns out to be but a 
hollow image. — W. A. Wright: For 'such,' in this sense, compare Cymbeline, V, 
T, 44 : * Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love With such integrity, she did 
confess Was as a scorpion in her sight' 

364. venerable] Collier (ed. ii) : No doubt < worth' is * venerable,' but what 
Antonio means is * veritable worth,' and such is the word substituted, most fitly, by 
the MS Corrector. Antonio apprehended that he had found Sebastian's worth mere 
ingratitude and falsehood. The word was either misheard or misprinted. — Dycb 
(ed. ii) : But the context ('devotion,' *idol,' *god') is decisive against [this] alter- 
ation. [The use of * devotion ' alone is decisive. — Ed.] 

367. feature, shame] Although, in general, I set no great value on the punctu- 
ation of the compositors of the Folio, yet, now and then, it is noteworthy. The 
comma after * feature ' seems to have been really placed with a purpose ; possi- 
bly, to indicate that 'feature' means the whole exterior, as Touchstone asks Audrey, 
' does my simple feature content you ?' and that the voice must not run on, and, 
absorbing an s from 'shame,' convert the phrase into 'features shame.' — Ed. 

369. the vnkinde] That is, unnatural. Thus, Lear, III, iv, 73 : * Nothing could 
have subdued nature To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.' 

370. beauteous euiU] A combination similar to 'proper false,' in II, ii, 31. 



[act III, sc. iv. 

Are empty trunkes^ ore-flourifh'd by the deuill. 371 

I . Off. The man growes mad^away with him : 

Come, come fir. 
Ant. Leade me on. Exit 

Vio. Me thinkes his words do from fuch pa(sion flye 375 

That he beleeues himfelfe, fo do not I : 

Proue true imagination, oh proue ttue, 

That I deere brother, be now tane for you. 

To. Come hither Knight, come hither Fabian : Weel 

whifper ore a couplet or two of mod fage fawes. 380 

Vio. He nam'd Sebajlian : I my brother know 

Yet liuing in my glaffe : euen fuch, and fo 

In fauour was my Brother, and he went 383 

372» 373- Prose, Mai. Dyce, Cam. 378. tane'\ tc^en Rowe. 

KUy, Rife, Wh. u. 

372. The\ Surely the Han. 

373. Come'\ 2.0. Come Cap. 

375. [Aside. Ed. conj. 

Me thinkes\ Methinks F^. 

376. him/elf ey'\ himself; Rowe ii. 

377. ttue-l F,. 

379. Weel^ Well Ff. 

379» 380. Two lines of verse (reading, 
W^ II whisper der a couplet of sage saws) 
Voss conj. 

380. [converse apart Cap. 

381. [Aside. Ed. conj. 

371. empty trunkes] Steevens : In the time of Shakespeare, trunks, which 
are now deposited in lumber-rooms, or other obscure places, were part of the fumi* 
ture of apartments in which company was received. I have seen more than one 
of these, as old as the time of our poet They were richly ornamented on the top 
and sides with scroll-work, emblematical devices, etc. 

376. 80 do not I] Johnson: This, I believe, means, I do not yet believe 
myself, when, from this accident, I gather hope of my brother's life. — W. A. 
Wright : Viola was not so confident in her belief that Sebastian lived, as Antonio 
was that she was Sebastian. — Deighton : His words appear to be bom of such 
strong feeling that the man believes what he says, viz. : that he knew me before and 
rescued me from the sea ; but I do not believe with him, i. e, I know that his belief 
is a mistaken one. [This man has faith in what he says, which 1 have not — Ed.] 

380. a couplet or two of most sage sawes] Deighton : Said in ridicule of 
Antonio's moralising and Viola's soliloquising. [That it was said in ridicule of 
Antonio is, I think, clear ; Antonio's last lines ran in couplets. But I cannot think 
it refers to Viola, who surely must have spoken aside. — Ed.] 

381. 382. know Yet liuing] For the construction, see I, v, 299. 

382. liuing in my glasse] Steevens : I suppose Viola means : * As often as I 
behold myself in my glass, I think I see my brother alive ' ; i . e, I acknowledge that 
his resemblance survives in the reflection of my own figure. — Deighton : It seems 
to me to mean rather ' I know my brother to be mirrored to the life in my person, 
in myself who am the glass'; compare Hamlet^ III, i, 161, ' The glass of fashion,' 
said of Hamlet, whose person reflected the highest fashion. [I do not doubt that 
Deighton is correct — Ed.] 

ACT IV. sc. i.] OR, IVHAT YOU WILL 249 

Still in this fafhion, colour, ornament, 

For him I imitate : Oh if it proue, 385 

Tempefts are kinde, and fait waues frefh in loue. 

To, A very difhonefl paltry boy, and more a coward 
then a Hare, his difhonefly appeares, in leauing his frend 
heere in neceflity, and denying him: and for his co ward- 
ship aske Fabian. 390 

Fab. A Coward, a mod deuout Coward, religious in 

And. Slid He after him againe, and beate him. 

To. Do, cuffe him foundly, but neuer draw thy fword 

And. And I do not. 395 

Fab. Come, let's fee the euent. 

To. I dare lay any money, twill be nothing yet. Exit 397 

^dlus Quartus, Sccena prima. 

Enter Sebajlian and Clowne. 2 

Clo. Will you make me beleeue,that I am not fent for 


Seb. Go too, go too, thou art a foolifh fellow, 5 

Let me be cleere of thee. 

385. Ohi So Becket, Coll. conj. 395. And'^ IfVoi^^ Han. .^ifThcob. 

3S6. loue.'\ lave. Exit. Ff. etseq. 

387. To.] Yob. F^. not.'] not,'-- Theob. et scq. 

Z9S. Hare,] Hare: T^^. [Exit Sir And. Theob. 

391. a mojl] Om. Han. 39^. ^/'j] /-f^ »« Han. 

393. S/id] 'Slid FjF^. Od's lid 397. any] Om. Han. 
Han. Exit.] Exeunt. Rowe. 

394. Z>^,]Z>tf.- Coll. Dyce,Sta. Cam. The Street. Rowe. ...before 
ntuer] n^erHzn. Olivia's House. Cap. 

draw] Om. F^F^, Rowe i. 5. too] to Yi. 

5, 6. Prose, Wh. i. 

385. if it proue] For other instances of the omission of so, see Abbott, § 64. 

391 f 392* religious in it] Deighton : One who seems positively to worship 
cowardice. [Is it not rather, one who practises it religiously? — Ed.] 

393. Slid] See II, v, 34. 

I. Scena prima] Marshall : In [Irving' s] acting-edition, this scene forms part 
of the pnneceding one. 

3. Will you] The French veux-tu. 

5. Go too, go too] According to Bardett's Concordance, this exclamation is used 
eighteen or nineteen times in these plays ; and, of course, with varying shades of 

250 TWELFE NIGHT [act iv. sc. L 

Clo, Well held out yfaith : No, I do not know you, 7 

nor I am not fent to you by my Lady, to bid you come 
fpeake with her : nor your name is not Mafter Cefarioj 
nor this is not my nofe neyther : Nothing that is fo,is fo. 10 

Seb. I prethee vent thy folly fome-where elfe, thou 
knoVft not me. 

Clo. Vent my folly : He has heard that word of fomc 
great man, and now applyes it to a foole. Vent my fol- 
ly : I am affraid this great lubber the World will proue a 15 

1 1, 12. thou ... m^.] S«pante line, great lubberly world Coll. MS. Hnds. 

Cap. gruU lubberly word Douce, Radham, 

II. /onU'Where'] F,. fomewhereY ^ ^. Wh. great lubber, the world, Var. '03 

14, 15. folly .•] folly ! F^. et cet great lubber, for all ike wmld 

15. great lubber the fVorld} Ff, Rowe, Bulloch. 
+ , Cap. Var. Ran. Mai. Steev. Sta. 

meaning, but in the majority of cases it expresses impatience. We reverse the 
action and saj * Come, come.' — Ed. 

7. Well held out] An artful way of impljdng that much of this contest has been 
carried on before Sebastian and Feste enter. — Ed. 

13. Vent my folly] Capell (p. 151) : 'Vent' is a mercantile word and in use 
with citizens, and suggests the Clown's reflection about the *worid' in line I5-— 
Reed : This affected word seems to have been in use in Shakespeare's time. — 
Hunter (i, 409) : We have here Shakespeare ridiculing affectations in language. 
Jonson, in his Volpone, fights by his side in respect of this word : * Pray you what 
news, sirs, vents our climate?' — II, i. [It is strange to find Hunter supporting 
Reed in the supposition that Shakespeare here ridicules the use of * vent.' Both 
must have known that Shakespeare himself (as Rolfe points out) uses the word 
many times. Two years before this play was written, Jaques says of Touch- 
stone, in As You Like It, II, vii, 43 : < He hath strange places cram'd With obser- 
nation, the which he vents In mangled forms.' See, too, Kent's use of the word in 
the first Scene of King Lear. Feste was on the alert to ridicule any expression or 
any action of Sebastian, to ' check at any feather ' ; and the contempt, implied by the 
phrase, stung him. — ^Ed.] 

15. great lubber the World] Johnson : That is, affectation and foppery will 
overspread the world. — Douce : A typographical corruption seems to have crept 
into this place from similitude of sound ; but a very slight alteration will restore the 
sense. The clown is speaking of * vent ' as an affected word ; we should therefore 
read : * this great lubberly word will prove,' etc., f. e, will turn out to be cockney 
language. — Knight quotes Douce, and then pertinently asks : < But is the little 
word « vent " a great lubberly word ?' He then continues, * The Clown is tolerably 
consequential in his thoughts ; and, if there were any precise meaning in his fear 
that the world would prove a cockney, we do not see how he brings the matter in. 
May not the speech be spoken aside, '* I am afraid the world will prove this great 
lubber (Sebastian) a cockney " — a foolish fellow? Such an inversion is not uncom- 
mon.' — CoLUER (ed. ii) : The MS Corrector reads ''lubberly world.' Shakespeare 
uses the word < lubberly ' in Afer, IVives, V, v, and it is very possible that lubberfy 

ACTiv.sci.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 25 1 

Cockney : I prethee now vngird thy (Irangenes^ and tell 16 

was misheard < lubber the.' — Badham (p. 2S4) : The coherency of this passage is 
none of the closest ; for what has the state of the world at large to do with Sebas- 
tian using a choice expression ? [Hereupon Badham, not knowing, of course, that 
he had been anticipated by Douce, proposes with ' certainty ' that the phrase is the 
' great lubberly wordy* whereof the meaning is] that this imposing word will proba- 
bly turn out to be no proof that the person using it is an adept in courtly phrase, — 
that Sebastian, when his single borrowed bravery of language is used, will show the 
weakness of his own wit — Halliwbll : The meaning of this passage appears to 
be, I am afraid the whole of the large world will be infected with foppery and 
affectation, in other words, will prove a cockney. — R. G. Whits, also, not know- 
ing that he had been anticipated by both Douce and Badham, adopted * lubberly 
word,* asking in his First Edition whether * there can be a doubt that lubberly w&rd 
was mistaken for <* lubber y* world "?' ' This correction,' he adds, * was made by 
the present editor before he knew of the existence of Collier's MS Corrector,' but 
he should have known of Douce, whose emendation was made in 1807. In his 
Second Edition, White's note reads: * lubberly word : that is, ventj which, in the 
sense of utter, was affectedly used in S.'s day. [Was it affectation in Kent to say to 
Lear, 'While I can vent clamour from my throat'? — Ed.] The clown fears it will 
prove a cockney ; that is, petted and adopted. But with any interpretation the 
passage is doubtful.' — Staunton : The point of this is not apparent. . . . Omitting 
the adjective < great,' which may have been caught by the compositor from the line 
above. Donee's emendation probably gives us what the poet wrote. — Dycb (ed. ii) : 
I can hardly believe that Shakespeare would have made the Clown speak of ' vent ' 
as a ' great lubberly word ' ; and I doubt much if * great lubberly ' could signify either 
* imposing ' or * pretentious,' as Badham and R. G. White respectively gloss the 
expression. — H. H. S. Croft {Gloss, p. 471): A clue to the true explanation of 
this sentence will undoubtedly be found in the repetition by the Clown of the word 
' vent,' which evidently struck him as something new fangled and unaccustomed, its 
' strangeness ' appeared to him a mark of affectation, of mignardise^ such that the 
'great man,' the great (unknown) lubber, 'the world' (the ^n </f^), from whom 
Sebastian had borrowed it, must necessarily turn out to be some effeminate, dainty fel- 
low, in short, a ' cockney.' [Feste says, I think, in effect : If terms used by great ones 
are to be applied to fools, and on every petty occasion ( just as he himself afterwards 
uses ' vent '), I am afraid that the world, great lubber as it is, will turn out, after all, 
to be nothing but a milksop. When Edgar in Lear speaks of the affected evasions 
of mankind in misnaming its vices, he calls it ' the excellent foppery of the world.' 
Thus here, if the affected misapplications of terms becomes widespread, it will show 
that the world is nothing but a foppish cockney. — Ed.] 

16. Cockney] Murray {N. E. D.)'. Middle English coken-ey^ -ay^ apparently 
equivalent to coken of cocks + ey, ay (Old English ag) egg ; literally ' cocks' egg.' 
This derivation satisfies the form : ey^ ay (ai ), are regular Mid. Eng. forms of egg^ 
rhjrming with the same words {^day, etc. ) as cokenay itself ; coken genitive plural is 
as in clerken coueitise^ P. PL B. iv, 119, and in many similar instances ; the use of 
the gen. pi. is as in German huhnereiy fowls' egg, hahnenei^ cocks' egg. [The 
first sense of the word is given as :] An egg : the egg of the common fowl, hen's 
egg \ 01^ perhaps one of the small or mis-shapen eggs occasionally laid by fowls, still 
popularly called in some parts ' cocks' eggs,' in German hahneneier. Thus, 1362, 

252 TWELFE NIGHT [act iv, sc. i. 

me what I fhall vent to my Lady ? Shall I vent to hir that 17 

thou art comming ? 

Seb. I prethee foolifti greeke depart from me, there's 
money for thee, if you tarry longer, I fhall giue worfe 20 


17. Ladyf'\Y^. Lady: F^. Lady; F^. ^r(^ or ^/f^>6^ Anon. ap. Gun. 

F^, Rowe. 19. m/,] me; Theob. 

17, 18. thai thou\ thai that F,. 20. thee,"] thee. F^. 

19-21. I ,„ paiment,"] Three lines, I Jhatl] PU or 'Shall Walker 

ending me;,,, longer ^ , . ,payment. Cap. et ( Vers, 237 ) . 

seq. wor/el worser Anon. ap. Cam. 

19. greeke] F,. Greek F^ Greek 

Langland, Piers Ploughman, A. vii, 272, * And I sigge, bi my soole, I haue no salt 
Bacon, Ne no Cokeneyes, bi Crist, Colopus to maken.' Again, 1562, J. Hey wood, 
Prov, &• Epigr, (1867), 36, < Men say He that comth euery daie, shall haue a cock- 
naie. He that comth now and then, shall haue a fatte hen,' etc. . . . [Of this first 
sense] the meaning appears to be established by the first quotation ; the constituents 
of a Collop were precisely bacon and an egg. This meaning also completely 
explains the quotation from Heywood. ... To account for the appellation, we might 
suppose coken-ay to be originally a child's name for an egg ; but as cocki eggs . . . are 
at the present day applied in popular speech or dialect to small or malformed eggs, it 
is not improbable that this was originally the specific sense of cokenay. The old 
notion that such eggs produced a serpent is well known [see ' cockatrices,' III, iv, 
195] ; but no trace of this appears in the popular use of cokenay, [The second 
sense of the word, Murray gives as] * A child that sucketh long,' *■ a nestle-cock,' 

* a mother's darling ' ; ' a cockered child, pet, minion ' ; ' a child tenderly brought 
up'; hence, a squeamish or effeminate fellow, a 'milksop.' . . . The application of 
either a child's word for an egg, or of the name of a small or mis-shapen egg, as a 
humorous or derisive appellation for a < child sucking long,' a < nestle-cock,' a ' milk- 
sop,' obviously explains itself. ... An apparent parallel is the French word coco, 
'child's name for an egg, also a term of endearment applied to children, and of 
derision applied to men : mon petit coco, quel grand cocoP 

19. greeke] Theobald (Nichols, Illust, ii, 357) : I suspect it should rather be 

* foolish geck^ i, e, gull, buffoon. [Hanmer has this emendation in his text ; proba- 
bly, it occurred to him independently. There is no means of knowing whether or 
not he derived it from Theobald.] — Upton {Remarks on Three Plays of Jonson^ 
p. 48) : Pergraecari, in Plautus is to spend the hours in mirth, wine, and banquets. 
Hence the proverb, <As merry as a Greek.' Sebastian calls the clown 'foolish 
Greek' for his unseasonable mirth. — Collier : This is in reference to the Oown's 
jocularity. * Merry Greek ' was a well understood expression. Mathew Mery- 
greeke is a character in Udall's Ralph Roister Doister, — Halliwell : Terms, like 
Greek or Trojan, were employed in familiar language, in a variety of senses which 
can be distinguished only by the context. Nash, Have with you to Saffron Walden, 
1596 : * A rare ingenuous odde merry Greeke, who (as I haue heard) hath translated 
my Piers Pennilesse into the Macaronicall tongue.' [p. 47, ed. Grosart. Both 
Warburton {ad, loc,) and Douce (i, 152) here interpret 'Greek' as equivalent to 
pander; corresponding to the Clown, Pompey, in Meas. for Meas, Sebastian sap- 

ACT IV, sc, i.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 253 

Clo. By my troth thou haft an open hand:thefe Wife- 22 

men that giue fooles money, get themfelues a good re- 
port, after foureteene yeares purchafe. 

Enter Andrew , Toby , and Fabian. 2 5 

And. Now fir, haue I met you again : ther's for you. 
Seb. Why there's for thee, and there, and there, 
Are all the people mad ? 

To Hold fir, or He throw your dagger ore the houfe. 29 

22, 23. fVi/e-men] Ff. vnse men 27, 28. Prose, F^, Rowe, + . 

Rowe et seq. and there, and there ,"] and there 9 

23, 24, report,'] Ff, Cap. report — and there, and there : Cap. Dyce ii, iii, 
Sta. Cam. report Rowe et cet. Huds. 

24, after'] at a Anon. ap. Cam. [Beating Sir And. Rowe. 

26. again .•] again ? F^. 29. dagger] danger Var. '85 (mis- 
ther's] F,. print). 

[Striking Seb. Rowe. 

poses Feste to be such a chaimcter, because of his solicitations to visit his mistress, 
— an interpretation not to be lightly discarded. — Ed.] 

23, 24. report, after foureteene yeares purchase] Heath (p. 192) : That is, 
purchase a good report at a very extravagant price. — ^Tollet : Perhaps *• fourteen 
years' purchase' was, in Shakespeare's time, the highest price for land. Bacon's 
Essay on Usury mentions sixteen years' purchase. <I will not give more than 
according to fifteen years' purchase,' said a dying usurer to a clergyman who advised 
him to study for a purchase of the kingdom of heaven. — Reed : Sir Josiah Child, 
Discourse on Trade, says, ' certainly anno 1621, the current price of lands in Eng- 
land was twelve years' purchase ; and so I have been assured by many ancient men 
whom I have questioned particularly as to this matter ; and I find it so by purchases 
made about that time by my own relations and acquaintance.' Sir Thomas Culpep- 
per, senior, who wrote in 1 621, affirms, 'that land was then at twelve years' 
purchase.' — Collier : The meaning may be, that they do not obtain a good report 
by such means until after the lapse of much time and longer experience of their 
liberality than the Clown had had. On the other hand [Toilet's argument is plaus- 
ible]. — Staunton : That is, After the rate of fourteen years' purchase. The cur- 
rent price of land when this play was written appears to have been twelve years' 
purchase ; so, buying character of fools was a bad bargain. — ^W. A. Wright : The 
Folios put a conmia at 'report,' meaning probably the same as Staunton, who 
marked it with a dash, to indicate that what follows is said aside, or in a different 
tone. [The marketable value of land, or its so-called purchase, was computed to be 
the sum of its annual rentals, or the total return from it, for a certain number of 

27. and there, and there,] It would be shocking and disgraceful if Sir Andrew 
were not beaten according to metre. Capell therefore pitilessly gave him a fourth 
blow ; and Dyce, equally ruthless, did the same ; because ' the words had evidently 
been omitted in the Folio by a mistake which is not unfrequent when such repetitions 
occur.' Can zeal for metre further go? — Ed. 


Clo. This will I tell my Lady ftraight, I would not be 30 

in feme of your coats for two pence. 

To. Come on fir, hold. 

An. Nay let him alone. He go another way to worke 
with him : He haue an aflion of Battery againft him, if 
there be a ny law in Illyria : though I (Iroke him firft, yet 3$ 

it's no matter for that. 

Seb. Let go thy hand. 

To. Come fir, I will not let you go. Come my yong 
fouldier put vp your yron : you are well flefh'd : Come 
on. 40 

Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldft y now ? 
If thou dar'ft tempt me further, draw thy fword 42 

31. two pence] two-pence F F^, Cap. 35. ftroke] F,. JlrookY^, Cap. Jlruck 
Coll. F^. 

[Exit Qown. Rowe. 35, 36. yet^Jhai'] Yet„Jkat, (Sepa- 

32. Come on Jir,"] F,F^. Come on, rate line) F^, Rowe. 

Jtr, Fj. Come, sir. Ran. Come off, 38-40. Come /ir,,,,on\ Three lines, 

sir ; Anon. ap. Cam. ending jtr,...ybt<A/Mr...^if. Walker (Cri/. 

[Holding Seb. Rowe. i, 17). 

33. alone,] alone ; Coll. Dyce, Cam. 41. [Wrenches from him, and draws. 
35. be] he F,. Cap. 

though] tho F^. 42. further] farther Coll. 

34. adtion of Battery] Castle (p. 109. See III, ii, 15) : Here Aguecheek 
mistakes the law, which is that a person who assaults another first cannot bring an 
action for the beating he gets from his provocation. This was the law in Shake- 
speare's time, though, as I have said, in Anne*s reign the judges allowed an action 
to be brought where excessive violence was used. Thus, if a woman pushed a man, 
he was not entitled to knock her down with a cudgel. But I do not think these two 
allusions (see III, ii, 15), both of which are doubtfully, if not wrongfully, used, 
can put this play amongst the legal class. [Has not Castle slightly misapprehended 
the passage? There is no ignorance of the law on Sir Andrew's part He 
acknowledges that, inasmuch as he struck Sebastian first, he has no right of action, 
yet, ' no matter for that,' he is going to have his action of battery all the same ; 
though the law is dead against him he is nevertheless going to appeal to it. I can 
perceive no 'mistake' of Sir Andrew's here. — Ed.] 

39. flesh'd] Bradley {N, E. D.)i Flesh, v. i. trans. To reward (a hawk or 
hound) with a portion of the game killed, in order to excite his eagerness in the 
chase. Hence, in wider sense, to render (an animal) eager for prey by the taste of 
blood. 2. To initiate in or inure to bloodshed or warfare. 

42. draw thy sword] Collier : Here the modem editors insert ' Draws ' as a 
stage-direction ; but it is very clear from what Sir Toby last says, * Come my 3roang 
soldier, put up your iron/ etc., that Sebastian had already drawn his sword. It was 
drawn at the time when Sir Toby had threatened to throw Sebastian's < dagger o*e 
the house.' — Badham does not agree with Collier in thinking that all this speec 
is addressed to Sebastian ; he says (p. 281 ) that the words ' put up your swof 

ACTiv,sc.i.] OR. IVHAT YOU WILL 255 

To. What, what ? Nay then I muft haue an Ounce or 43 

two of this malapert blood from you. 

Enter Oliuia » 45 

01. Hold Toby^ on thy life I charge thee hold. 

To. Madam. 

01. Will it be euer thus f Vngfracious wretch, 
Fit for the Mountaines, and the barbarous Caues, 
Where manners nere were preachM : out of my fight 50 

Be not offended, deere Cefario : 
Rudesbey be gone. I prethee gentle friend, 52 

44. [They draw and fight. Rowe. sight! "Dyct, 

45. Scene II. Popc, + . 51. Cefario.] Cefario. F^F^. 

47. Madam,'] Madam ^ Thtxh,Mad- 52. Rudesbey"] F,. Rudesby F^F^ et 

Coll. Dyce. seq. Rude spy Plrocter. 

50. nere] ne're Ff. gone,] gone, [Exeunt Sir T. and 

preach^ d :,„ fighU] preach'd!,,. Sir A. Rowe. 

\sic]\ you are well fleshed/ 'should be bracketed, as addressed to Sir Andrew.' 
[I agree with Badham that the command, ' put up your iron,' is addressed to Sir 
Andrew, who, seeing that Sebastian was safely held by Sir Toby, and that he had 
no danger to apprehend, had drawn his blade, against Sir Toby's express injunction 
at the close of the preceding scene. Sir Toby knew well that if Sir Andrew had 
his sword drawn and Sebastian should wrench himself free, Sebastian would make 
quick work of the ' manakin ' ; therefore he intended to hold Sebastian long enough 
to divert the latter* s indignation from Sir Andrew to himself, wherein he succeeded. 

* You are well flesh' d' is also addressed to Sir Andrew and intended to flatter him 
into quiet by intimating that as a victor he has tasted enough blood. Sebastian at 
the first attack had laid his hand upon his dagger. This dagger-hand Toby held 
fiist As soon as Sebastian had thrown off Sir Toby, he draws his sword with the 
words, • What wouldst thou now?' — Ed.] 

44. malapert] Cotgrave gives : ^Marmiion : m. A Scullion, or kitchin boy ; also, 
a greasie, or slouenly knaue ; and, a saucie, malapert, or knauish fellow.' 

52. Rudesbey] Halliwell : * And as he which is ceremonious may be thought 
to be a dissembler, so he which is not so, may be taken to be a clowne, a rudesby, 
or a contemner of others.' — Guazzo, Ciui/e Conuersafion.[p, 77, 78. J — FiTZEDWARD 
Hall {Modem English, p. 272, Note on 'tricksy' in The Vicar of Wakefield) i 
The formation of tricksy is observable ; the word exemplifying the rare suffix -sy^ 
which, perhaps, consists of s euphonically prefixed to the adjectival -y of roomy , for 
instance. Tricksy is, then, trick + jr^. . . . Again, as a friend suggests to me, doxy, 
instead of being referable to the Danish dukke [see Wint. Tale, IV, iv, 346], may 
have started from the vernacular ducky, and so consist of duck -^ s ■¥ y. But we are 
not yet at the end of words presumably embodying a euphonic s, [In the following 
list, each word is followed by the page and volume of the work wherein it occurs ; 
to save space these are here omitted] : Idlesby, Lewdsby, Rigsby, Sneaksby, Suresby, 
and Rudesby, which is used twice by Shakespeare [See Tarn, of the Shr, III, ii, 10]. 

* You are a rudesby yourself,' writes, in 1774, Mrs Catherine Clive, in The Private 
Correspondence of David Garrick, etc., i, 604. Here we have annexed to adjectives 

25 6 TWELFE NIGHT [act iv, sc. i. 

Let thy fayre wifedome, not thy pafsion fway 5 j 

In this vnciuilly and vniuft extent 

Againft thy peace. Go with me to my houfe^ 55 

And heare thou there how many fruitleffe prankes 

This Ruffian hath botch'd vp, that thou thereby 

Mayft fmile at this : Thou (halt not choofe but goe : 

Do not denie, befhrew his foule for mee, 

He ftarted one poore heart of mine, in thee. 60 

56. heari^ here F^. 60. mine^ mine F^. 
58. Mayjri Maift Ff. 

and subsUntives, j, with -by ; unless some one proves the existence of the tennina- 
tion 'Sby, And what is this -by ? Some have seen boy in it. The old spelling 
rudesbey suggests no solution. 

54. vnciuill] Evidently suggested by the terms in which she has just character- 
ised Toby's conduct as ' fit for mountains and barbarous caves.* — Ed. 

54. vniust extent] Johnson : < Extent ' is, in law, a writ of execution, whereby 
goods are seized for the King. It is therefore taken here for violence in general. 
[See As You Like It^ III, i, 18, of this ed. where the use of * extent,' as a legal term, 
is discussed. Of course, it has no tinge of legal phraseology in the present passage.] 

57. botch'd vp] Heath (p. 193) : This is a metaphor taken from the employ- 
ment of a botcher, who set patches on old worn-out cloaths. The sense is. How 
many fruitless pranks this ruffian hath been obliged to make satisfaction for, at the 
expense of his fortune and reputation. — W. A. Wright : That is, patched up 
clumsily. This does not refer to the patching up of quarrels which Sir Toby's 
conduct had bred, but to the awkwardly contrived tricks he was constantly playing. 
[Possibly this was also Warburton's interpretation when he conjectured hatched 
up. — Notes &* Qu, Vlllth, iii, 203.] 

58. choose but goe] Abbott (§ 353, p. 254) : The obvious and gimnunatical 
construction is * thou shalt not choose anything except (to) go '; but probably (con- 
trary to Mfttzner's view, iii, z8) the explanation of the omission is, that Shakespeare 
mentally supplies * shall,' < can,' etc. ' Thou shalt not choose anything else, bat 
(shalt) go.' 

60. one poore heart of mine] Johnson : I know not whether there be not an 
ambiguity intended between * heart ' and hart. The sense, however, is easy enough. 
' He that offends thee, attacks one of my hearts ' ; or, as the ancients expressed it, 
'half my heart.* — Malonb : The equivoque suggested by Dr Johnson was, I have 
no doubt, intended. ' Heart ' in our author's time was frequently written hart ; and 
Shakespeare delights in playing on these words. [Had both Dr Johnson and Malone 
forgotten the 22nd line of the first scene of this play? — ^Ed.] — ^Whiter (p. 96) : 
I am persuaded that no quibble was here intended ; but that the equivocal word 
suggested to the unconscious Poet a term which was allied to one of its significations. 
— Staunton : The hunter's technical phrase ' started,' might have convinced Dr 
Johnson that the poet was playing on the word. [I prefer Whiter' s mode of express- 
ing it It is not a quibble, nor even a play on the words ; these imply oonsdons- 
ness, or, at least, intention ; but I believe that it was an unconscious adoption by 
Olivia of both significations of the word. — Ed.] 

ACT IV, sc. iL] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 257 

Seb. What rellifh is in this? How runs the ftreame ? 
Or I am mad, or elfe this is a dreame : 
Let fancie ftiii my fenfe in Lethe (leepe^ 
If it be thus to dreame, (till let me fleepe. 

O/.Nay come I prethee, would thoud'fl be rulM by me 65 

Seb. Madam, I will. 

OL O fay fo, and fo be. Exeunt 67 

SccBfia Secunda. 

Enter Maria and Clawne. 2 

Mar. Nay, I prethee put on this gown, & this beard, 
make him beleeue thou art fir Topas the Curate, doe it 
quickly. He call fir Toby the whilft. 5 

65. I prethee] I pray Voipt^-^- , 4,5. CuraU., .quickly] Curat „.quikfy 

I. Scene III. Pope, + . F^. 

Olivia's House. Rowe. 5. whil/i] whir ft FJF^, 

[EzitM. Theob. 

61. rellish is in this ?] Johnson : How does this taste? What judgement am 
I to make of it ? 

64. If it be thus ... let me sleepe] Staunton : This speech recalls that of 
Antipholus of Syracuse, under similar circumstances of bewilderment ; Com. of Err. 
II, ii, 214. 

65. I prethee] Walker {Crit. i, 78) : Read I pray [jiV Pope] ; the other is too 
rugged for a rhyming couplet 

67. and so be] Gervinus (trans. Bunnett, i, 603) : [Sebastian], drawn into the 
quarrel with the squires, at one stroke gi^es back the blows due, and proves to Olivia 
that he would know how to free her from her dissolute guests. The charm exercised 
by a nature at once so fresh and so victorious, Olivia is not alone to experience. The 
poet has taken care that the instinctive feeling of the Countess should not be con- 
strued into womanly weakness ; for men of strong nature entirely share it with her. 
The rough captain, Antonio, is attracted to this youth by just as blind an impulse of \ 
pleasure and love, he loiters about him, in spite of the danger to which he exposes 
himself in the adverse town, for his sake he takes delight in this danger, he bestows 
his love upon him without retention or restraint ; he himself calls it witchcraft, which 
drew him to the joyous dexterous youth. 

4. sir Topas] See III, iv, 270, < sir Priest.' — Stekvsns : The name Sir Topas 
is taken from Chaucer. [Would it not have been more correct to say, it is found in 
Chaucer? — Ed.]— Nares : Dominus, the academical title of a bachelor of arts, was 
usually rendered by Sir in English, at the Universities ; so that a bachelor, who in 
the books stood Dominus Brown, was in conversation called Sir Brown. This was 
in use in some Colleges even in my memory. — Percy (quoted by Halliwell) : Sir 
seems to have been a title formerly appropriated to such of the inferior clergy as 
were only Readers of the service, and not admitted to be preachers, and therefore 


I \. 

25 8 TWELFE NIGHT [act iv, sc. iL 

Clo. Well^ He put it on, and I will difTemble my felfe 6 

6. dilfemble\ dejfemble F^. 

were held in the lowest estimation; as appears from a remarkable passage in 
Machell*s MS Collections for the History of Westmoreland and Cumberland, pre- 
served in the Dean and Chapter's Library at Carlisle. The reverend Thomas 
Machell lived temp. Car. II. Speaking of the little chapel of Martindale, the 
writer says, < There is little remarkable within or about it but a neat churchjrard, 
which by the peculiar care of the old Reader, Sir Richard, is kept clean, and as 
neat as a bowling-green. Within the limits of myne own memory all Readers io 
Chapels were called Sirs^ and of old have been writ so ; whence, I suppose, such 
of the laity 9^ Received the noble order of knighthood being called Sir's too, for 
distinction sake had Knight writ after them ; which had been superfluous, if the title 
Sir had been peculiar to them.' — DoucK (quoted by Halliwell) : The question 
whether priests were formerly knights in consequence of being called sir remains to 
be decided. Examples that those of the lower class were so called are very numer- 
ous ; and hence it may be fieurly inferred that they at least were not knights, nor is 
there perhaps a single instance of the order of knighthood being conferred upon 
ecclesiastics of any degree. Having casually, however, met with a note in Dyer's 
Reports (p. 2i6 B.), which seems at first view not only to contain some authority for 
the custom of knighting priests by abbots, in consequence of a charter granted to the 
Abbot of Reading for that purpose, but likewise the opinion of two learned judges, 
founded thereupon, that priests were anciently knights, I have been induced to enter 
a little more fully upon this discussion, and to examine the validity of those opinions. 
[The curious reader is referred to the solid folio page in Halliwell, devoted to this 
examination, wherein the validity of the judges' opinion is learnedly disproved. 
The discussion thus concludes :] Having thus, I trust, refuted the opinion that the 
title of * Sir ' was given to priests in cons^uence of their being knights, I shall ven- 
ture to account for it in another manner. This custom then was most probably 
borrowed from the French, amongst whom the title Domnus is often appropriated 
to ecclesiastics, more particularly to the Benedictines, Carthusians, and Cistercians. 
It appears to have been originally a title of honour and respect, and was, perhaps, 
at first, in this kingdom as in France, applied to particular orders, and afterwards 
became general as well among the secular as among the regular clergy. The reason 
of preferring Domnus to Dominus was that the latter belonged to the Supreme Being, 
and the other was considered as a subordinate title, according to an old verse :-» 
Coelestem Dominum, terrestrem dicito Domnum. Hence Dom, Damp, Dan, Sire, 
and, lastly. Sir; for authorities are not wanting to show that all these titles were 
given to ecclesiastics. [Did Shakespeare choose this name by design? Regi- 
nald Scot, in his Discoverie of Witchcraft (Sixt Chap. p. 294, ed. 15S4), speaking 
of the virtues imparted to precious stones, says that * a topase healeth the lunatike 
person of his passion of lunacie.' This reference I owe to my son, H. H. F., Jr. 

6. dissemble my selfe} Malone : That is, disguise myself. — Steevens : Shake- 
speare has here stumbled on a Latinism ; thus, Ovid : * Achilles Veste virum longa 
dissimulatus erat.* — [Ars Amat. I, 689.] — Knight : Writers do not stumble upon 
nice shades of meaning. [Which is hardly fair to Steevens, who, I believe, meant 
no disparagement to Shakespeare, but merely that Shakespeare had, without knowing 
it, used a classic Latin phrase. — Ed.] 

ACTiv.scu.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 259 

jn't, and I would I were the firft that euer diffembled in 7 

in fuch a gowne. I am not tall enough to become the 
funftion well, nor leane enough to bee thought a good 
Studient : but to be faid an honeft man and a good houf- 10 

keeper goes as fairely, as to fay, a carefuU man, & a great 

8. gcfumel gaum, [Putting it on] 10. Studimt'] F,. 

CoU. MS. II. care/u//] graceful Han. Warb, 

taWl f^ Fanner, Var. '03, '13, Cap. 
'31, Sing. Ktly. 

8. not taU enough] Tyrwhitt: This cannot be right Th^word wanted 
should be part of the description of * a careful man.' I should have no objection 
to read,— /o^. — Stesvens : * Not tall enough,' perhaps means • not of sufficient 
height to overlook a pulpit* Dr Farmer would read fat instead of < tall,' the 
former of these epithets, in his opinion, being referable to the following words — 
•a good housekeeper.'— Staunton : 'Tail' in its ancient sense of rt^mst, stout, 
fersonabU, oflFers quite sufficient contrast to * lean ' of the following line.— HuTSON 
(p. 491 ) : From what Feste says here, it may perhaps be inferred that diminutive 
size, or ini^ignificant appearance, or even ludicrous physical disproportion had helped 
to keep him from becoming a clergyman. We know that jesters were greatly aided 
in their calling by some grotesque feature, or oddity of manner, or peculiarity of 
voice, and that dwarfs in mediaeval times were a favourite ornament of courts. . . .. 
These considerations, the language Feste uses here, and the fact that we find him 
with the clerical education and without the clerical office, make it very probable that 
he was thick-set and of low stature, and so undignified in general appearance as to 
preclude him from receiving holy orders. [I am afraid that Hutson's ingenious theory 
is, at this point, founded on a mistaken interpretation of ' tall.' See I, iii, 21. Is it 
not possible to interpret Feste' s words as anything but disparaging to his own per- 
sonal appearance ? He was not portly enough on the one hand, nor lean enough on 
the other, with the inference that in every other walk in life, but that of a parson, he 
was exactly right — Ed.] 

10. Studient] W. A. Wright : Also thus spelt in Mer. Wives, III, i, 38, where 
Justice Shallow says, ' keepe a Gamester from the dice, and a good Studient from his 
booke, and it is wonderful.' It may be that in both these passages the mis-spelling 
is intentional, for in Levis Lab, Lost, II, i, 64 ; III, i, 36, the word is in its usual 
form. [As far as the compositor is concerned, I think the spelling is intentional. It 
is possible that it represented a not unusual pronunciation. Walker (Vers, 156) 
quotes from Middleton's O/d Law, I, i,[p. 8, ed. Dyce] : ' Evander . . . has hit the 
law That all our predecessive students Have miss'd unto their shame,' and then 
remarks, * Read studients, as the word is often written. Perhaps Dyce has corrected 
the passage in his Middleton. [No. — Ed.] Compare the Italian studiente (they 
have studente also; was ''studiente" then the prevailing form?) and the French 
itudiant,* See * Dexteriously,' I, v, 58; 'iealious,' IV, iii, 30. — Ed.] 

ID. to be said] See Abbott (§ 200, p. 134) for examples of < to be said' used 
for to be called, 

II. carefull man] Warburton : This refers to what went before, * I am not tall 
enough,' etc.; it is plain then that Shakespeare wrote : ' as to say, a graceful man,' 
i, e, comely. Capell (p. 151) justifies his adoption of this emendation by the fact 



[act IV, sc. iL 

fcholler. The Competitors enter. 

Enter Toby. 

To. loue bleffe thee M. Parfon. 

Clo. Bonos dies fir Toby : for as the old hermit oiPrage 
that neuer faw pen and inke, very wittily fayd to a Neece 
of King Gorbodacke^ that that is, is : fo I being M. Parfon, 
am M. Parfon ; for what is that, but that? and is, but is ? 

To. To him fir Topas. 

Clow. What hoa, I fay. Peace in this prifon. 

To. The knaue counterfets well : a good knaue. 

Maluolio within. 





13. Enter ...] Enter ... and Maria. 

14. lou^^ God Hal. Huds. 

14, 17, 18, etc M.'] Ff. Mr. Rowe, 
+ , Cap. master Var, '73 et seq. 
15-18. Mnemonic lines, Warb. 

15. Prage] Prauge F^. Prague Vio'ttt. 

16. Neece'] Ff, Rowe. neice Pope, + . 
niece Johns. 

17. Gorbodacke] F,F^. Gorbodack 
Fj, Rowe. Gorboduck Pope, + . Gorbo' 
due Cap. et seq. 

17. that that] thatT^, 

that that f>, u] As a quotation. 

18. that,,„is P]* thai* but* that^' and 
*is* but* is* f Cam. Wh. ii. 

that?] Ff, Rowe, + , Var. Knt, 
Coll. SU. that, Dyce. that ; Cap. et cet 

19. [Opening a door. Coll. MS. 

20. /ay,] say, — Theob. say, [rap- 
ping at an inner Door] Cap. 

[In a counterfeit voice. Han. 
21,30. [Aside. Cap. 

that ' careful ' * has no relation whatever to the word with which it ought to have 
some, namely — "tall."' — Steevens : A * careful' man, I believe, means a man 
who has such a regard for his character, as to entitle him to ordination. [Steevens 
alone appears to have perceived that these lines refer to Sir Topas. Feste sa3rs, in 
effect, that though in bodily shape he may be unfit to impersonate Sir Topas, yet if 
he be called an honest man and a good housekeeper it will be quite enough to make 
him fairly represent a careful man and a great scholar like the Curate. — Ed.] 

12. Competitors] M. Mason: That is, confederates, or associates. 'Com- 
petitor' is used in the same sense in Richard III : IV, iv, 506: 'every hour more 
competitors flock to their aid.' 

15. hermit of Prage] Douce : Not the celebrated heresiarch Jerome of Prague, 
but another of that name bom likewise at Prague, and called the hermit of Carnal^ 
doli in Prague. — W. A. Wright: But this is treating the Clown's nonsense too 
seriously. No one has attempted to identify the niece of King Gorboduc. 

17. King Gorbodacke] Halliwell : * The opinion of things is the measure of 
their value, as was vrisely said of a neece of King Gorbudukes. Know then, that 
if another then the coronet had recived this script, he would not perchance have 
valued it so highly.' — Suckling's Letters, 1659, [vol. ii, p. 219, ed. Hazlitt, 1892, 
where in a footnote to ' king ' it is said that the < old copy has, and perhaps Suckling 
wrote, queene* Not many of Suckling's letters have been preserved, but in these 
few Shakespeare is quoted familiarly several times. Of course, this * niece ' is a 
purely fictitious character, and undoubtedly Suckling had in mind this very speech 
of Feste, but I suppose changed it for amusement to * Queen Gorboduc' — Ed.]] OR, IVHAT YOU WILL 26 1 

Mai, Who cals there ? 23 

Clo. Sir Topas the Curate, who comes to vifit Maluo- 
lio the Lunaticke. 25 

Mai, Sir TopaSy fir Topas, good fir Topas goe to my 

Clo. Out hyperbolicall fiend, how vexeft thou this 
man ? Talkeft thou nothing but of Ladies f 

Tob, Well faid M. Parfon. 30 

Mai, Sir Topas^ neuer was man thus wronged, good 
fir Topas do not thinke I am mad : they haue layde mee 
heere in hideous darkneffe . 

Clo, Fye, thou difhoneft fathan : I call thee by the 
moft modeft termes, for I am one of thofe gentle ones, 35 

that will vfe the diuell himfelfe with curtefie : fayft thou 
that houfe is darke ? 37 

24. [This and all that follows from Rowe, Han. Cap. Knt Satan Wh. 

the Clown, in a counterfeit voice. Han. Dyce, Cam. 

29. Talkeft, .,LadU5l'\ Separate line, 3^. /tfj^/?] F,. /tfj/^/? FjF^, Rowe, + , 

Pope ii, + , Var. * 73. Cap. Var. Mai. Steev. Var. Knt. sayest 

nothing but of] of nothing but of Dyce, Cam. 

Theob. i. of nothing but Theob. ii, 37. /A/i/] Mu Mason. Ran. Dyce conj. 

Warb. Johns. Var. '73. that this Hal. the or that the Anon. ap. 

34. /aMaif] Pope, + . Sathan Ff, Cam. Ma/* Ed. conj. 

34. sathan] For the spelling, see III, iv, 119. 

35. modest] See I, iii, 11. 

36. will] That is, wish to. 

37. that house] Both Mason (p. 119) and Dyce (ed ii) conjectured * this 
boose.' Halliwell reads < that this house,' and says that this seems to be essen- 
tial. Probably there is an absorption of the in the final / of < that.' But Feste was 
not within the room ; he was probably looking into it through a window or through 
a door ajar. In Rowe's frontispiece, the earliest illustration of the play, it is a 
door. — Ed. 

37. house is darke] Malone : The Clown gives this pompous appellation 
[* house'] to the small room in which MaWolio, we may suppose, was confined, to 
exasperate him. — Halliwell : ' A darkened room ' was sometimes called a dark- 
house. ' A sprite apering to Jhon and him, when they sate upon division of the 
lands, in likeness of a here, and therewith Peter fell out of his wits, and was tyed in 
a dark house and beat out his brains against a post, and Jhon stabed himself all on 
St Marks dai.' — MS Ashmol. 236. *■ In the beginning, therefore, of the cure, 
if neither age, nor state of the bodie, nor time of the yeare do let it, you must cut 
the veine of the hams or of the ankles. . . . Afterward you must place the sicke in a 
darke house, which is moderately warme.' — Barrough's Method of Physick, 1624. 
[Rosalind says, ' Love is merely a madness and deserves as well a dark house and 
a whip as madmen do.' If Feste used the word < house ' to exasperate Malvolio, as 

262 TWELFE NIGHT [act iv, sc. ii. 

Mai. As hell fir Topas. 38 

Clo. Why it hath bay Windowes tranfparant as bari- 
cadoes^ and the cleere (lores toward the South north^ are 40 

39. bay\ bow Ran. conj. stories Gun. ii, Wh. ii. 

40. cleere Jlores'\cleareJlonesY^, clear 40. toward "l Ff, Dyce, Cam. Wh. it 
ftones F3F4, Rowe, + , Cap. Var. Ran. towards Rowe et cet. 

Mai. Stecv. Var. clear stories or clear- South nortA] South North F,F^, 

•i/^rfW Blakeway, Var. '21, Knt, Coll. Rowe, + . south north Cam. South- 

Wh. i, Dyce, Sta. Ktly. clearstores -North F^, Theob. et cet 
Cam. i, Rife, clere-storeys Huds. clear- 

Malone says, his intention failed ; Malvolio adopts it, when he asserts that *■ this 
house is as darke as ignorance.' — Ed. 

39. bay Windowes] M alone: See Minshieu's Diet, s. v. : * Baywindow^ 
Because it is builded in manner of a Baie or rode for shippes, that is, round.* 

39, 40. baricadoes] Murray {N, E. D.) \ An adaptation of the French barri- 
cade^ or Spanish barricada^ formed from French barrique or Spanish barrica a cask, 
the first street barricades in Paris being composed of casks filled with earth, paving- 
stones, etc. [< Faire vne Barriquadcy to make a defence of barrels and pales for the 
shot' — Hollyband's French Diet. 1593. — Ed.] 

40. cleere stores] See Text, Notes, — Murray (N, E. D. s. v. Clerestory) : Com- 
monly believed to be formed on clere. Clear + Story, stage of a building, < floor ' 
of a house. ( Clere must here have meant < light, lighted,' since the sense of ' free, 
unobstructed ' did not yet exist. ) This assumed derivation is strengthened by the 
parallel blind-story^ although this may have been a later formation in imitation of 
clerestory. The great difficulty is the non-appearance of story in the sense required 
before circa 1600, and the absence of all trace of it in any sense in the 14th, 15th, 
and chief part of the i6th century. At the same time there is a solitary instance of 
storys in Robert of Gloucester ( 1724), 181, which may mean * elevated structure' or 
* fortified place.' The substantive estorie in Old French had no such sense, but the 
past participle estori meant ' built, constructed, founded, established, instituted, forti- 
fied, furnished, fitted out,' whence a substantive with the sense ' erection, fortifica- 
tion ' might perhaps arise. [Its sense is :]The upper part of the nave, choir, and 
transepts of a cathedral or other large church, lying above the triforium (or if there 
is no triforium, immediately over the arches of the nave, etc. ), and containing a 
series of windows, clear of the roofs of the aisles, admitting light to the central 
parts of the building. [Hunter's is the solitary voice raised in defence of the 
reading of the Second Folio, 'cleare stones.' To read 'clear-stories' is, he thinks], 
' a case of great editorial misjudgement For, in the first place, what have clere- 
stories to do with the cell in which Malvolio was confined ; and, in the second, 
clerestory was a term in the time of Shakespeare of very rare occurrence. What 
Shakespeare wrote was unquestionably ** clear stones," and if it is said that this is a 
contradiction, it is answered that Shakespeare meant to make the Clown speak in 
that manner, as is manifest in the whole of what he says. Stones are clear just as 
there is a point of the compass which may be called the south-north or as ebony is 
lustrous.' — W. A. Wright : 'Clear stones' is not even sensible nonsense. [If the 
authorities had been reversed, and ' dear stones ' had been the text of the First 
Folio, it would have been accepted, I think, as Feste's nonsense, and as intelligible 
as the Vapians passing the Equinoctial of Queubus. But our highest authority reads 

ACTiv, sc.ii.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 263 

as luftrous as Ebony : and yet complaineft thou of ob- 41 

ftruftion ? 

Med. I am not mad fir TopaSy I fay to you this houfe is 

CIo. Madman thou erreft : I fay there is no darkneffe 45 

but ignorance, in which thou art more puzePd then the 
-/Egyptians in their fogge. 

MaL I fay this houfe is as darke as Ignorance, thogh 
Ignorance were as darke as hell; and I fay there was ne- 
uer man thus abusM, I am no more madde then you are, 50 

make the triall of it in any conftant queftion. 

Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning 
Wilde-fowle? 53 

45. Madman] F,. Madam F^ Mad 51. ctm/lant] consistent Coll. MS. ap. 

man F^. Mad-man Rowe. Cam. 

49. and] an F^. 53. Wilde-fmole] Wild/ouie F^. 

'clear stores' (where only an f or a ^ may have dropped out), and we must 
make the best of it. One slight plea can be urged in its favour, and this is that 
'clerestories* suggest a church — a befitting place wherein to exorcise an evil 
spirit, and designed still further to worry Malvolio. Hunter weakened his argu- 
ment when he asked what clerestories have to do with Malvolio's cell ?— quite as 
much as clear stones, or, as Dyce says, < bay windows.' All is pure nonsense. — Ed.] 
47. Egyptians in their fogge] Thus, in Exodns, z, 21 : And the Lord said 
unto Moses, Stretch out thine hand toward heaven, that there may be darkness over './ 
the land of Egypt, even darkness which may be felt. And Moses stretched forth his 
hand toward heaven ; and there was thick darkness in all the land of Egypt three 
days. They saw not one another, neither rose any from his place for three days. 

51. constant question] Johnson : A settled, a determinate, a regular question. 
— Malone : Rather, in any regular conversation, for so generally Shakespeare uses 
the word 'question.' [Compare Hamlet's test of madness (IH, iv, 141), 'bring me 
to the test, And I the matter will re- word, which madness Would gambol from.' 
Here Malvolio means any consecutive discussion, or, as W. A. Wright expresses it, 
'any regularly conducted formal conversation or discussion.' It may be doubted that 
either test would be accepted as final by mental pathologists of the present day.] — 
BucKNiLL (Mad Folk, 325) ; The idea of testing the existence of insanity by ques- 
tions on the doctrine of transmigration, may find its counterpart in more than one 
recent legal investigation, in which it has been argued by very learned counsel, and 
maintained by very eminent physicians, that because an educated gentleman retains 
some knowledge of his previous acquirements, it is impossible he can be insane. 

52. Pythagoras] Walker (Crit. i, 152) finds herein one of the many instances 
of Ovid's influence on Sliakespeare. [In the account of the doctrines of Pythagoras 
in Metam, xv, Shakespeare might have read, ' — Parcite, vaticinor, cognatas caede 
nefanda Exturbare animas.' — 11. 1 73-1 75 ; again, ' quoniam non corpora solum, 
Verum etiam volucres animae sumus, inque ferinas Possumus ire domos, pecu- 
dumque in pectora condi.' — 11. 456-458. But these doctrines were familiarly known ; 
there is no need to suppose that Shakespeare went to the original. — Ed.] 

264 TWELFE NIGHT [act iv, sc. iL 

Mai. That the foule of our grandam, might happily 
inhabite a bird. 55 

Clo, What thinkft thou of his opinion ? 

Mai, I thinke nobly of the foule^and no way aproue 
his opinion. 

Clo. Fare thee well : remaine thou ftill in darkeneffe, 
thou (halt hold th'opinion of Pythagoras^ ere I will allow 60 

of thy wits, and feare to kill a Woodcocke, left thou dif- 
poffeffe the foule of thy grandam. Fare thee well. 

Mai, Sir Topasy fir Topas. 

Tob, My moft exquifite fir Topas, 

Clo, Nay I am for all waters. 65 

54. happily] Ff, Rowe, + . haply Han. 
Cap. et seq. 62. [Closing the door. Coll. MS. 

56. thinkft'] thinkest Var. '03 ct seq. 63. Topas.] Tcpas,-- Wh. i, Dyce. 

59. darkeneffe^] darkness ; Rowe. 64-73. [Aside. Cap. 

60. M'] the Johns, et seq. 65. [This in his own voice. Han. 

61. wits^ wits; Theob. et seq. waters] wanters or ventures Anon, 

62. foule] hou/e Ff, Rowe, Pope, ap. Cam. 

53. Wilde-fowle] Theobald (Nichols, ii, 357) : I do not know whether it is 
reasonable to call our Poet's fools and clowns to any account? But should not the 
question have been — * concerning the souri [' Hands off !' is the first thought which 
rises in the heart and murmurs from the tongue when any phrase is in question, not 
alone of Feste but, of all Shakespeare's Dogberrys and Clowns. Were it not for 
this, Theobald's emendation would be worthy of consideration. Malvolio does not 
reply directly to the question. Feste asks about a wild-fowl and Malvolio replies 
about the soul. — Ed.] 

60. allow] See < allow,' I, ii, 64. 

61. Woodcocke] A proverbially silly bird. See H, v, 83. 

62. soule] See Text, Notes for a sophistication of the Ff. 

62. Fare thee well] Bucknill {Mad Folk^ 323) : This interview represents a 
caricature of the idea that madness is occasioned by demoniacal possession and is cura- 
ble by priestly exorcism. The idea was not merely a vulgar one in Shakespeare' s time, 
but was maintained even long afterward by the learned and the pious. More than a 
trace of it, indeed, remains to the present day in Canon LXXII. of the Church, 
which provides that no Minister without the license of the Bishop of the Diocese 
shall ' attempt, upon any pretence whatever, either of possession or obsession, by 
fasting and prayer, to cast out any devil or devils, under pain of the imputation of 
imposture or cosenage, and deposition from the ministry.' 

65. I am for all waters] Mr Smith (ap. Grey, i, 235) : That is, a cloak for 
all kinds of knavery ; taken from the Italian proverb, Tu hai mantellod'ogni acqua. 
Thou hast a cloak for all waters. — ^Johnson : I rather think this expression borrowed 
from sportsmen, and relating to the qualifications of a complete spaniels— Ca pell 
(p. 151) : The expression— ^/fj/i in all waters, is alluded to in what is given the 
Gown ; his meaning — that he could put on all characters. — M. Mason (p. 120) : 
The word .aater, as used by jewellers, denotes the colour and the lustre of diamonds 

ACT IV, sc. ii.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 265 

Mar. Thou mightft haue done this without thy herd 66 

and gowne, he fees thee not 

To. To him in thine owne voyce, and bring me word 
how thou findft him : I would we were well ridde of this 
knauery. If he may bee conueniently deliuer'd, I would 70 

he were, for I am now fo farre in offence with my Niece, 
that I cannot purfue with any fafety this fport the vppe- 
Ihot. Come by and by to my Chamber. Exit 73 

66. berd^ beard Ff. Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. 

67. gcwney"] gown; Theob. 72. /port the] sport to the Rowe et 

69. findjt] findeU Var. '03 et seq. seq. s^orf the Ed. conj. 
weU] alIY(, Rowe, + . all well 72, 73. vppejhot,] up-JhotYl, 

Coll. MS. 73. Chamber] Champer F,. 

71. Niece] Neece FL Neice Rowe, Exit.] ^xit with Maria. Theob. 

and pearls, and from thence is applied, though with less propriety, to the colour 
and hue of other precious stones. I think that Shakespeare in this place alludes to 
this sense of the word * water.' The Clown is complimented by Sir Toby for per- 
sonating Sir Topaz so exquisitely, to which he replies, that he can put on all colours, 
alluding to the word Topaz, which is the name of a jewel, and was also that of the 
curate. — Malone : That is, I can turn my hand to anything ; I can assume any 
character I please ; like a fish, I can swim equally well in all waters. — Halliwell : 
According to Heywood, one of the phrases applicable to a drunkard was * one that 
can relish all waters,' that is, drink anything. . . . Another conjecture is that the 
proverbial phrase originated from a passage in Isaiah, — ' Blessed are ye that sow 
beside all waters.' — Staunton : A metaphor borrowed, perhaps, from the tavern : 
' Hee is first broken to the sea in the Herring-man's Skiffe or Cock-boate, where 
having learned to brooke all waters, and drinke as he can out of a tarrie canne,' etc. 
— ^Nashe's Lenten Stuffe, p. 27. The literal meaning of ' I am for all waters,' was, 
undoubtedly, ' I am ready for any drink.' The cant term for potations, in Shake- 
speare's time, was waters; and to 'breathe in your waterings i Hen, IV: II, v, 
meant to take breath while drinking. See Taylor's, The Water- Poet, ' Drinke and 
welcome, or the famous history of the most part of Drinkes in use in Create Brit- 
aine and Ireland ; with an especial Declaration of the Potency, Vertue, and Oper- 
ation of our English Ale : with a description of all sorts of Waters,* etc. [What- 
ever the origin of the phrase, be it to fish in all waters, or to swim in all waters, or 
to drink all liquors, I think that Malone' s interpretation is the true one : that Feste 
means he can turn his hand to anything. — Ed.] 

66. berd] Possibly, a phonetic spelling, indicating a pronunciation like our 
bared, the past participle of bare. J. P. Kemble was ridiculed for retaining this old 
pronunciation, which, however, he supposed to be the same as bird. — Ed. 

70. If he may ... I would] For a similar irregularity in the sequence of tenses, 
see As You Like It, I, ii, 175, <we wil make it our suite to the Duke, that the 
wrastling might not go forward ' ; or Abbott, § 370. 

72, 73. vppeshot.] W. A. Wright : That is, the decisive shot, a term in 
archery, as the ' up-cast ' or final throw, was used in the game of bowls. Compare 
Hamlet, V, ii, 371 [of this ed.], * And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on 
the inventors' heads.' 



TWELFE NIGHT [act nr, sc. iL 


Hey Robin, ioUy Robin, tell me how thy Lady 

My Lady is vnkind, perdie. 

Alas why is fhe fo ? 

Foole, I fay. 
She loues another. Who calles, ha ? 

Good foole, as euer thou wilt deferue well at 



my hand, helpe me to a Candle, and pen,inke,and paper: 83 

Scene IV. Pope, + . 

74. [Singing. Rowe. 

74, 75. Two lines, as verse. Cap. et 
seq. Hey^ jolly Robin^ tell to tne How 
does thy lady do ? Farmer. 

74. thy'\ my Rowe ii, + . 

76, 78, 80, 100. Foole,,,. Foole,,,, 
fay,,,, Topas.] Fool^ — ... Fool^ — ... 
sayy — ... Topas ^ — Theob. ct seq. 

77. pcrdie.] perdy. Cap. ct seq. 

81. another. '\ another — Rowe et 

74. Hey Robin, etc.] Percy (i, 196, ed. 1844) : This song has been recovered 
from an ancient MS of Dr Harrington's, at Bath. . . . The volmne seems to have been 
written in the reign of Henry VIII. ; . . . this song is there attributed to Sir Thomas 
Wyatt ; but the discerning reader will probably judge it to belong to a more obso- 
lete writer. The MS is strictly followed, except to mark the changes of the dialogue 
by inverted commas. The first stanza appears to be defective, and it should seem 
that a line is wanting, unless the four first words were lengthened in the tune. * A 
Robyn, | Jolly Robyn, | Tell me how they leman doeth, | And thou shalt knowe of 
myn. || <* My lady is unkynde perde." | Alack I why is she so? | *'She loveth an 
other better than me; | And yet she will say no.'* ' [There are four more stanzas.] — 
Singer (ed. ii) : The air to which this song was sung is to be found in The Cithern 
Schoole by Anthony Holbome, X597. [The only ancient music for this song which 
I can find is that given by Naylor (p. 190), who couples with it the air given at 
line 122 post. His remark is : * Here are two relics of music for the Clown, prob- 
ably of the same period as [Farewell^ Dear Heart , II, iii, loi] : — 

4^iir ^'J'lr f /-Jij'J'f ric f a 

Hey, Rob -in, jol - ly Rob -in. Tell me how thy la - dy does. 

^Jj' i r r '"j'lJ'J'f ri/j'j I I 

Hey, Rob - in, jol • ly Rob • in, tell me how thy la - dy does. 

77. perdie] A corruption of par Dieu. See Hamlet^ III, ii, 282, where, in the 
First Folio, it is also spelt as here, and also in modem editions changed to perdy, 

82, 83. as euer . . . helpe me] Abbott (§ 275, p. 189) : The x^ is omitted after 
as in adjurations ; thus here, * As ever thou wilt . . . (so) help me,' etc., where 
means < in which degree,' and so * in that degree.' 

ACT IV. sc ii.] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 267 

as I am a Gentleman^ I will liue to bee thankefuU to thee 

fort. 85 

Clo^ M. Maluolio ? 

MaL I good Foole. 

Clo, Alas fir, how fell you befides your fiue witts ? 

MalL Foole, there was neuer man fo notoriouflie a- 
busM : I am as well in my wits (foole) as thou art. 90 

Clo, But as well : then you are mad indeede,if you be 
no better in your wits then a foole. 

Mai, They haue heere propertied me : keepe mee in 93 

86. M.'\ Mr. Rowe, + , Cap. Master '73, '78, '85, Ran. 

Vax. '73 et seq. 91. well :\ well! Rowe, + . well f 

Maluolio /] Malvolio ; F^. Mai- Cap. et seq. 

vcUo ! Rowe. Malvilio! Han. ii (mis- you are] thou art Rowe ii, + . 

print). 93. heere"] Om. Pope, Han. 

88. Alas] Alafs FjF^. keepe] they keep Han. 
befides] beside Cap. conj. Var. 

84. I will liue to bee thankefuU] Abbott (} 319, p. 227) : The < will' refers, 
not to Mive/ but to 'live-to-be-thankful/ and the sentence means, *\ purpose in my 
future life to prove my thankfulness.' 

tA» besides] Compare Much Ado, V, i, 141, < Dost thou weare thy wit by thy 
side? Claudio, Neuer did any so, though verie many haue been beside their wit.' 
Schmidt (Lex.) furnishes many examples of this use of beside and besides as a 
preposition, meaning out of. 

88. fiue witts] Malone : The ' wits,' Dr Johnson observes, were reckoned five, 
in analogy to the five senses. From Stephen Hawes's poem, called Graunde Amoure, 
cb. xxiv, ed. 1554, it appears that the ' five wits ' were : — < conmion wit, imagina- 
tion, fantasy, estimation, and memory.' * Wit' in our author's time was the gen- 
eral term for the intellectual power. [' Wit,' both in its old and in its modem sense, 
is used in Mtuh Ado. The Index to that play in this ed. furnishes examples. 
Compare, Sonn. 141 : < But my five wits nor my five senses can Dissuade one foolish 
heart from loving thee,' etc., where the senses and the wits are regarded as distinct. 
Dr Skeat has kindly called my attention to the fact that the wits, although not 
specified, are enumerated as five in Langland's Vision of Piers Ploughman^ — circa 
1362-1380,— Passus i, line 15, Text B.— Ed.] 

89. notoriouslie] That is, egregiously. Malvolio seems fond of the high-sound- 
ing word. In the last scene at the end of the play (line 347) he tells the Countess 
that she has done him < notorious wrong,' and a few lines farther on, he says he has 
been made a 'most notorious gecke and gull.' He infects even the Countess ; she 
acknowledges that he has been ' notoriously abus'd.' — Ed. 

93. heere propertied me] Johnson : That is, they have taken possession of me, 
as of a man unable to look to himself. — Collier : It may be doubted whether 
Shakespeare had not some allusion to the < properties ' ( as they were then, and are 
stilly called) of a theatre, which, when out of use, were thrust into some dark loft or 
lumber-room. — Dyce (Remarks, p. 78) : There is certainly no allusion here to 
theatrical < properties,' — no more than there is in the following passages: 'Your 

268 TWELFE NIGHT [act iv. sc, il 

darkenefle, fend Miniflers to me^ AfTes^ and doe all they 

can to face me out of my wits. 95 

Clo. Aduife you what you fay : the Minifter is heere. 
Maluolioj McUuolio^ thy wittes the heauens reftore : en- 
deauour thy felfe to fleepe^ and leaue thy vaine bibble 

McU. Sir Topas. lOO 

94. Affes^"] asses ! Q6W. 96-98. [All this in a counterfeit 

▼oice. Han. 

grace shall pardon me ; I will not back ; I am too high-bom to be propertied. To 
be a secondary at control, Or useful serving-man and instrument. To any sovereign 
state throughout the world.* — King John^ V, ii, 79 ; 'his large fortune, Upon his 
good and gracious nature hanging. Subdues and properties to his love and tendance 
All sorts of hearts.' — TimoHy I, i, 55. — Staunton : It here bears the same mean- 
ing, — that, apparently, of circumscribed, restricted, appropriated, — as in King John 
[just quoted]. — Abbott (} 290, p. 201), in a list of verbs formed from nouns, gives 
•propertied* as meaning * treat as a tool.* — W. A. Wright: That is, treated me 
as a property or thing to be used for a particular purpose, as if I had no will of my 
own. Compare King John [as above. Dyce*s quotation from Timon is not, I 
fear, exactly parallel. In spite of the majority in favour of what is essentially 
Dr Johnson's interpretation, I cannot but think that Collier's suggestion is not 
to be lightly discarded. No one seems to have considered the force of the < here.* 
Had the phrase been simply ' they have propertied me,' Dr Johnson's explanation 
would be probable, but Malvolio says, * they have here propertied me,' — *here,' as 
he once before said, <in hideous darkness.' It is in that particular place that they 
have propertied him, not propertied him in general. In view of this locative emphasis, 
the quotation from King John is hardly parallel : Lewis's contrast is between a 
sovereign and a serving-man. If we bear in mind the frequency of Shakespeare's 
allusions to the stage. Collier's interpretation, coupled with the * here,' will seem, I 
think, not improbable. — Ed.] 

95. face me out of my wits] W. A. Wright : That is, to cheat me out of my 
wits by sheer impudence. See V, i, 89. 

97, 98. endeauour thy sclfe] See Abbott (§ 296, p. 208) for other verbs now 
used intransitively but used by Shakespeare reflexively. 

98, 99. bibble babble] See Hunter's note in Appendix^ Date of Composition. 
Compare * there is no tiddle taddle nor pibble pabble in Pompe/s camp.' — Hen, V: 
IV, i, 71.— Halliwell : Thus, « Whan the peres are gone ; they are but dyble dable. 
I marvell ye can abyd suche byble bable.'— Bale's Kynge Johan, [p. 7, ed. Camden 
Soc. ] * Go to, come hether ; I will forgive thee, if thou wilt become an honest man, 
and cast idlenes, slouthfulnes, and thy bible bable aside.' — Florio's Second FruteSy 
1 59 1. * What is logicke but the high waie to wrangling, contayning in it a world of 
bibble-babble ?' — An Amond for a Parrat, n. d.— W. A. Wright: See Latimer 
{Sermons, p. 507, Parker Soc. ed.) : * I speak of faithful prayer ; for in time past we 
took bibbling babbling for prayer, when it was nothing less.' [Thus, Cotgrave, 
^ Bavasse : f An idle tale, vaine tatle, bible-bable.' See also Wheatlsy's Diet 
of Reduplicated Words. The number of these examples (and I have given only a 

ACTiv. sc.iL] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 269 

Clo. Maintaine no words with him good fellow. 10 1 

Who I fir, not I fir. God buy you good fir Topas : Mar- 
ry Amen. I will fir, I will. 

Mai. Foole, foole, foole I fay. 

Clo. Alas fir be patient. What fay you fir, I am (hent 105 
for fpeaking to you. 

Mai. Good foole, helpe me to fome light, and fome 
paper, I tell thee I am as well in my wittes, as any man in 

Clo. Well-a-day, that you were fir. no 

loi. [In the counterfeit voice. Han. 102, 103. Marry Atnen\ To be 

102. [This in his own voice. Han. spoken in the counterfeit voice. Han. 
Who J fir'\ Who /, «>, Rowe, 103. / wiU,'\ I will fir, Yly Rowe, 

Pope, Han. Who, /, sir ? Theob. et seq. Pope, Han. 

buy you] ^ w* you Pope, -f , Cap. 104. /ay.'] Ff, Rowe, + . say ! Coll. 

Var. Mai. Steev. Vw€ you Var. '03 et say, — Cap. et cet. 

seq. 105. you fir,] F,F^. you, sir, Rowe i. 

102,103. Topas :... Amen J\ Topas — ^^«, y?r / F^, Rowe ii et seq. 

Marry, amen. — Theob. et seq. (except io8. paper ^ ^^^* Paper. Fy paper; 

Cam. ) Rowe. 

selection) is of importance, showing, as it does, that Shakespeare did not, of neces- 
sity, take these words from Darrel's account of the disturbances in the Starchy 
household. — Ed. ] 

loi. Maintaine no words with him] Johnson: Here the Clown in the dark 
acts two persons, and counterfeits, by variation of voice, a dialogue between him- 
self and Sir Topas. — ' I will, sir, I will ' is spoken after a pause, as if, in the mean- 
time. Sir Topas had whispered. 

102. Qod buy you] Walker ( Vers. 227) : God be with you is in fact God V 
wT you ; sometimes a trisyllable, sometimes contracted into a disyllable ; — now 
Good-bye. (Query, whether the substitution of good for God was not the work of the 
Puritans, who may have considered the familiar use of God*s name in the common 
form of leave-taking as irreverent ? I suggest this merely as a may-be. ) This form is 
variously written in the Folio and in old editions of our other dramatists ; sometimes 
it is in full, even when the metre requires contraction ; at others, God b^ wV ye, 
God be wy you, God btuy, God buy, etc. I have noticed the form God b' wi' you as 
late as Smollett {Roderich Random, chap, iii.) : <B'wye, old gentleman'; if not 

105. shent] Steevens (Note on Hamlet, III, ii, 381 ) : To shend is to reprove 
harshly, to treat with rough language. — ^W. A. Wright (Note on Coriolanus, V, 
ii, 91) : The original meaning of the word is 'to disgrace, put to shame,' from the 
Anglo-Saxon scenden. In the earlier Widiffite translation of / Samuel, xz, 34, 
instead of what in the Authorised Version is ' because his father had done him 
shame,' we find ' forthi that his fader hadde shent hym.' 

no. Well-a-day] Earls ($ 200) : Wa has a history much like la. [See III, 
iv, 104.] It has changed its form in modem English to tvo. 'Wo,' in the New 
Testament, as Rev. viii, 13, stands for the Greek interjection ovai and the Latin vae. 
In the same way it is used in many passages in which the interjectional character is 



[act IV, sc. ii. 

McU. By this hand I am 2 good foole, fome inke, pa- 
per, and light : and conuey what I will fet downe to my 
Lady : it (hall aduantage thee more, then euer the bea- 
ring of Letter did. 

Clo. I will help you too't. But tel me true, are you not 
mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit. 

Mai. Beleeue me I am not, I tell thee true. 

Clo. Nay, He nere beleeue a madman till I fee his brains 
I will fetch you light, and paper, and inke. 

Mai. Foole, He requite it in the higheft degree : 
I prethee be goue. 

Clo. I am gone fir, and anon fir, 





115. too't.'l td'L Rowe. 

116. indeed f] indeed ? Steev. et seq. 
counterfeit,^ counterfeit f Ff. 

117. me I am not,'] me, I am not^ Ff, 
Rowe i. me^ I am not : Rowe ii et seq. 

118. Ile'\ F,. rie F,. IPe F^. 

118. nere'\ nder FL 

madman"] mad-man Rowe, + . 

120. 121. Prose, Rann et seq. 

121. goue} F,. 

122. [Singing. Rowe. 

122-129. Twelve lines, Cap. et seq. 

distinct. This word must be distinguished from Ttwe, which is a substantive. For 
instance, in the phrase ' weal and woe.' The fact is, that there were two distinct 
old words, namely, the inteijective wa and the substantive woA, genitive w^gys, 
which meant depravity, wickedness, misery. Often as these have been blended, it 
would be convenient to observe the distinction, which is still practically valid, by a 
several orthography, writing the interjection wo, and the substantive woe. This 
interjection was compounded with [/a] into the fonns Toa/a and welawa, — a frequent 
exclamation in Chaucer, and one which, before it disappeared, was modified into the 
feebler form of wellaway, A still more degenerate variety of this form was well-a- 
day. Pathetic cries have a certain disposition to implicate the present time, as in 
woe worth the day ! 

115, 116. are you not mad indeed] Johnson : If he was not mad, what did be 
counterfeit by declaring that he was not mad ? The fool, who meant to insult him, 
I think, asks, ' are you mad, or do you but counterfeit?' That is, ' You look like a 
madman, you talk like a madman. Is your madness real, or have you any secret 
design in it?' This, to a man in poor Malvolio's state, was a severe taunt. — M. 
Mason (p. 120) : Malvolio had assured the Clown that he was as well in his senses 
as any man in Illyria ; and the Gown in reply asks him this provoking question : 
<Is it true that you are not really mad?' that is, that you are really in your right 
senses, or do you only pretend to be so ? — M alone : The words ' do you but counter- 
feit?' surely mean, *do you but counterfeit madness,' or, in other words, 'assume 
the appearance of a madman, though not one.' Our author ought, I think, to have 
written either ' are you mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit V or else ' are you 
not mad indeed, and do you but counterfeit ?' But I do not suspect any comiptioQ. 
— W. A. Wright : The question in its present form is equivalent to < you are mad, 
are you not ?' 

122. I am gone, sir, etc.] Farmer : We have here another old catch ; i4>par* 

ACTiv,sc.u.] OR, WHAT YOU WILL 271 

He be with you againe : 123 

In a trice, like to the old vice, 

124. In a] With a Coll. ii (MS). 124. like to\ Like Coll. MS. 

ently, I think, not of Shakespeare. — Dycb (ed. ii, p. 383) : It is probably an old 
song, somewhat altered by our poet — Naylor (p. 190) gives the following air (see 
line 74, above) : 

I f 111 f I f f r Mf ■ f MJ /j. j j' i jjj i 

I'm gone, sir, and a -non, sir, Til be with you a -gain, sir. 

124. old] This does not refer, I think, to age, or to the Vice of aforetimes, bat is 
the good humoured ' old,* and implies a sneaking regard. — Ed . 

124. old vice] Johnson : The * vice ' was the fool of the old moralities. Some 
traces of this character are still preserved in puppet-shows, and by country mummers. 
— ^Nares (s. v. Iniquity) : The established buffoon in the old moralities. He was 
grotesquely dressed in a cap with ass*s ears, a long coat, and a dagger of lath ; one 
of his chief employments was to make sport with the devil, leaping on his back and 
belabouring him with his dagger of lath, till he made him roar. The devil, how- 
ever, always carried him off in the end. The morality of which representation 
dearly was, that sin, which has the wit and courage to make very merry with the 
devil, and is allowed by him to take great liberties, must finally become his prey. — 
Collier (/Tm/. of Dram, Poetry , ii, 188, ed. 1879) : Regarding the Vice, Douce 
was of opinion that the name was derived from the nature of the character ; and cer- 
tain it is that he is represented most wicked by design, and never good but by acci- 
dent. Malone tells us that ' the principle employment of the Vice was to belabour 
the Devil ' ; but although he was frequently so engaged, he had also other and 
higher duties. He figured now and then in the religious plays of a later date, and 
in The Life and Death of Mary Magdalen^ 1567, he performed the part of her 
lover, under the name of Infidelity, before her conversion ; in King Darius^ I5^5> 
he also acted a prominent part, by his own evil impulses, under the name of 
Im'quity, without any prompting from the representative of the principle of evil. 
Such was the general style of the Vice ; and as Iniquity he is spoken of by Shake- 
speare {Rich, III: III, i.) and Ben Jonson {Staple of News ^ Second Intcrmean). 
The Vice and Iniquity seem, however, sometimes to have been distinct persons ; and 
he was not unfrequently called by the name of particular vices ; thus, in Lusty 
Jueventus^ the Vice performs the part of Hypocrisy ; in Common Conditions^ he is 
called Conditions ; in Like will to Like, he is named Nichol New-fangle ; in The 
Trial of Treasure^ his part is that of Inclination ; in All for Money y he is called 
Sin ; in Tom Tyler and his Wife, Desire ; and in Appius and Virginia, Haphazard. 
GifTord designates the Vice *■ the buffoon of the old Mysteries and Moralities,* as if 
he had figured in the Miracle-plays represented at Chester, York, and elsewhere ; 
Malone, also, speaks of him as the ' constant attendant ' of the Devil in ' the 
ancient religious plays ?' The fact is that the Vice was wholly unknown in our 
* religious plays,' which have hitherto gone by the name of ' Mysteries/ and to 
which Gifford and Malone refer. The Life and Repentance of Mary Magdalen and 
King Darius, already mentioned as containing the character of the Vice, were not 
written until after the reigpi of Mary. The same remark will apply to the Interlude 

2/2 TWELFE NIGHT [act iv, sc. il 

[124. like to the old vice] 
of Qtteen Hester^ 1561, which differs from other religious plays, inasmuch as the 
Vice there is a court jester and servant, and is named Hardy-dardy. With regard 
to ' Moralities,' it is certainly true that in the ancient Moral-plays characters of gross 
buffoonery and vicious propensities were inserted for the amusement and instruction 
of the audience ; but, although we hear of 'the fool' in MedwalPs Interlude, per- 
formed before Henry VIII. in 1516, such a character seems very rarely to have been 
specifically called * the Vice ' anterior to the Reformation. On the external appear- 
ance of the Vice, Douce has observed, that * being generally dressed in a fooVs 
habit,' he was gradually and undistinguishably blended with the domestic 
fool ; and there is every probability that such was the result Ben Jonson, in 
his The Devil is an Ass, alludes to this very circimistance, when he is speaking of 
the fools of old kept in the houses of nobility and gentry : — ' Fifty years agone 
and six, When every great man had his Vice stand by him In his long coet, 
shaking his wooden dagger.' — Act I. sc. i. The Vice here spoken of was the domes- 
tic fool of the nobility about the year 1560 ; to whom also Puttenham, in his ArU 
of English Poesie (1589, p. 69), alludes, under the terms ' buffoon or vice of plajrs.' 
In the second Intermean of his Staple of News, Ben Jonson tells us that the Vice 
sometimes wore ' a juggler's jerken with false skirts '; and though Douce is unques- 
tionably correct when he states that the Vice was ' generally dressed in a fool's 
habit,' he did not by any means constantly wear the parti -coloured habiliments of 
an idiot ; he was sometimes required to act a gallant, and now and then to assume 
the disguise of virtues it suited his purpose to personate. In The Life and Repent' 
ance of Mary Magdalen, he several times changes his apparel for the sake of decep- 
tion. In The Trial of Treasure, 1567, he was not only provided, as was customary, 
with his wooden dagger, but in order to render him more ridiculous, with a pair of 
spectacles (no doubt of a preposterous size), which he is desired by one of the char- 
acters to put on. The ' long coat ' worn by the Vice, according to the preceding 
quotation from Ben Jonson' s Devil is an Ass, was doubtless that dress which, Douce 
informs us, belonged ' to the idiot or natural fool,' often of a mischievous and malig- 
nant disposition ; and it affords another link of connection between the Vice and the 
domestic fool. . . . The Vice, like the fool, was often furnished with a dagger of 
lath, and it was not unusual that it should be gilt. Just preceding the mention of 
the 'juggler's jerkin ' by Ben Jonson, as part of the dress of the Vice, is an alluaon 
to the ludicrous mode in which poetical justice was not unfrequently done to him at 
the conclusion of a Moral. Tattle observes, ' but there is never a fiend to carry him 
away ' ; and in the first Intermean of the same play. Mirth leads us to suppose, that 
it was a very common termination of the adventures of the Vice, for him to be car- 
ried off to hell on the back of the devil : ' he would carry away the Vice on his 
back, quick to hell, in every play where he came.' In The Longer thou livest the 
more Fool thou art, and in Like will to Like, the Vice is disposed of nearly in this 
sunmiary manner ; in the first. Confusion carries him to the devil, and in the last, 
Lucifer bears him off to the infernal regions on his shoulders. In King Darius, the 
Vice runs to hell of his own accord, to escape from Constancy, Equity, and Charity. 
According to Bishop Harsnet, the Vice was in the habit of riding and beating the 
devil at other times than when he was thus hurried against his will to punishment 
[In Drummond of Hawthomden's Conversations with Ben Jonson, there occurs 
the following item : * A play of his, upon which he was accused, The Divell is ane 
Ass ; according to Comedia Fetus, in England the Divell was brought in either with 

ACT IV. sc. il] OR. WHAT YOU WILL 273 

your neede to fuflaine. 125 

Who with dagger of lath, in his rage and his wrath, 

cries ah ha, to the diuell : 
Like a mad lad, paire thy nayles dad, 

Adieu good man diuell. Exit 129 

X27. ah koy] ahj ah, Rowe L ah Roweii, + » Ran. Steev. Var. Harness, 

ka ! Rowe ii et seq. Walker, Coll. ii, iii (MS), Dyce, Cam. i, 

128. dad;\ Dad^ Ff. dad; Dyce, Sta. goodman Devil Qx^.V^x.^T^y'l^. 
Cam. *2I, Mai. Wli. GIo. Cam. ii. goodman 

129. good man diuell'] good man Civil or good man, be civil Anon, ap. 
DiveU F,. good man Dernl F^F^. good Cam. 

Man Devil Rowe i. good man Drivel 

one Vice or other : the play done the Divel carried away the Vice, he brings in the 
Divel so overcome with the wickedness of this age that thought himself ane Ass.' 
— p. 28, ed. Sh. Soc. — Ed.] 

128. paire thy nayles dad] M alone : The Devil was supposed from choice to 
keep his nails always unpared, and therefore to pare them was an affront. So, in 
Camden's Remednes. 1615 : 'I will follow mine own minde, and mine old trade ; 
Who shall let me? the divel's nailes are unparde.* — Farmer : I know not whether 
this line should not be thrown into a question : < pare thy nails, dad ?' In Nen. V: 
IV, iv, 76, we meet again ' this roaring devil i'th' old play, that every one may pare 
his nails with a wooden dagger.' 

129. good man diuell] Johnson : This line has neither rhyme nor meaning. 
I cannot but suspect that the fool translates Malvolio's name, and says : * Adieu, 
goodman mean-etnL* ^—^. Mason (p. 120) : I believe, with Johnson, that this is an 
allusion to Malvolio's name, but not in his reading, which destroys the metre. 
Read — 'Adieu, good mean-evil,* that is, good Malvolio, literally translated. — 
Malone: The last two lines of this song have, I think, been misunderstood. 
They are not addressed in the first instance to Malvolio, but are quoted by the 
Clown, as the words * ah, ha !' are, as the usual address in the old Moralities to the 
Devil. We have in The Merry Wives, * No man means evil but the devil,' [V, ii, 
15] ; and in Much Ado, 'God's a good man,' [III, v, 37. A recurrence of the 
same word, instead of a rhyme, is hardly a sufficient reason for a change, espe- 
dally in a song like this, which is sung by Feste in the mere exuberance of his high 
spirits. If the words apply to Malvolio, however vaguely, well and good ; too close 
an application was hardly to be desired. To imply that Malvolio is the Devil in a 
play, is to imply that Feste himself is the Vice, — hardly a more creditable character. 
For Feste' s purpose, it is sufficient that the Song, taking up Malvolio' s last words, 
ends with bidding him adieu. — Ed.]